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This appeared in Crannóg 31
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September Swallows

Eamonmaguidhir_thumbnail_02by Éamon Mag Uidhir03 Nov 2013

Cirrus whispers hushed
a sky effervescent with
Swallows grasping for the courage
and the moment to strike out
For their veldt heaven ten thousand
kilometres away.

The birds sped on their tight
patrols, slashing the blue air
Like pairs of scimitars duelling,
plucking viaticum from
Every thermal, while the cement
and the gravity under
My feet in Cross Lane
tugged hard, harder than ever,
And I ached to shout out—‘Earth, why
will you never let me go?’