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Paul Kelly

Eurydice And The Tawny Frogmouth

 

Eurydice And The Tawny Frogmouth


On the low arch above our gate
He looks out through a fringe of feathers hunting
Then places one foot on black cast iron and ruffles his head
His other foot is clenched in the night air
Held out in an atmosphere of waiting, then unclenched

Those nights flying with you
Weighed no more or less than this

Those nights flying with you
Weighed no more or less than this

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