Strom ride
the wind does rip
through the rustling trees
and debris races tumbling
carried in the wind
chill is the wind
hinting at rain
and the land lies darkened
by the threatening storm
yet in endless struggle
though mightily strained
a small bird struggles
in the darkening sky
wondering gaze I
from far below
if it be hopeless
the struggle in vain
yet hope do I
triumph will be
the tiny storm rider
so high in the sky
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