Mottled wings spear the air,
a grey flash and splintering.
Stream lined heads sharply applied
as if the wind itself tore through
openings in the sky.
The birds circle and swoop,
dive and free-fall, tumble & soar,
spiral high, riding a rollercoaster
of avian ecstasy.
We, the heavy-footed,
chase with our lenses,
aiming to catch these flickering arrows -
most capture only a blurring blear.
Whoever reacts ahead...
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