black birds on the line,
thick and dark,
half-way south.
wild skydivers looping across the sky,
dipping, screeching
back up,
dirt dusting their wings,
shaking off the chill.
skimming the cold rolling winds--
desperate summer laughter
calling out as summer goes.
they fall off, arms out
trusting that gravity won't hold
the arc vees out and up,
all and one
arrowing out to the south,
going...

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