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Wild Swans

 I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before? Only a question less or a question more: Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying, House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over The town again, trailing your legs and crying!

Poem by Edna St Vincent Millay
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