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Whirling

· One min read

Are those devils or dervishes dancing on my wingtips? I can't deny a certain...
    Beauty...
To it all;

Grace is not found in riveted
Planes of steel—
Even the birds register disapproval,
But perhaps its in a lonely red dot
Awash amidst gray and white,
Or maybe, yes, certainly
In the majesty of suspension while
Earth rolls 'round and 'round.

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