This verse begins, and is written precise;
This vocabulary (used) is terse and concise.
The words – (which paste, sticking, as they fall onto this
page) –
Are birds flying, with haste, since set free from their
mental cage.
These wild fowl are drifting, though the papery air, into
the empty spaces;
La colombe are
floating, with a focused stare. They travel further south
Silently – moving without articulated sounds – or some squawking
mouth.
The congregating flock compounds, an audience from many
different places.
The (current) atmosphere in the stratosphere is (in winter):
hazy, cloudy, and chilled,
But the (concurrent) skies and direction remain clear, so
doves course ahead –
Guided onward by an empirical imagination – their experienced
wings are lead.
Left in the herds wake is a creation – their detached
feathers, downward are spilled.
There are many pinion leaves, (which in the winter season)
fall, in the frigid vapor;
When one plume, mentally conceives and, decides: it will
break free and softly land…
…Next to some already scribbled lines (which now lie latent,
upon this cold paper).
Then, the sky-sent image sets down and combines, with the
thoughts the moving hand.
Composed By: A. D.
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