The dove perches on the bough As morning starts to push back the night Clouds abet nights attempt to hold the dark Light slowly soaking through the atmosphere The dove stretches its wings but holds the branch Letting go it swoops down levelling to glide Parallel to the glistening dew on the grass Turning and climbing it rises to a birdseye view Plunging on a steep descent glancing left Wingtip to wingtip matched by a twin They sky-dance on the brisk breeze Mesmeric flight fandango As they twist in unison through the air Return to perch two taking a bough
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