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Black Sun
I hear the starlings' song,
mighty murmuration,
soaring through the ages.
Their secrets undisclosed,
naught to revered sages.
I hear the starlings' song,
mere memories of past
journeys through boundless sky,
leaving charmed contrails
rewarding to the eye.
I hear the starlings' song,
shushing – wonders promised –
solemn susurrant tones
whispering to me, "Hush",
seductive pheromones.
I hear the starlings' song
as they blacken the skies
with their mighty number,
sonant, viva voce,
murmur to me, "Slumber".
Copyright ©
Linda Alice Fowler
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