Their brilliant shapes were like blades within the sky.
Clouds were cut into wispy whirl spun arcs.
Speed and sound were toys for those who could fly.
Courageous dives became ascending loops
There are these misty places within clouds,
where rain storms float in the stillness shining;
the Plectrophenax Nivalis know this.
Thus, they shear through the still showers gloating.
Details of such places were sung to me,
and the universal language speaks clear.
For now it seems as if i have been there,
upon the steps which lead into heaven.
During hours made mundane by men who "try,"
my thoughts will be with the Snow Bunting in flight.
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