Across the river, a nest.

A place on the high land is cozy and amicable.

Fly above the vast river becomes eternal.

Flying across damps, locks, valleys, and obstacles is normal.

Up in your nest, nestle is instant, and occupation becomes uncertain.

The moment is captured, longing is satisfied, departure across the river is up again.

Flying, flying seems to be the game.

Back on the river bank, the sky is blue the water turbulent.

A  uncertain reflection.

It never ends, back to the nest, home.

Con-placemen to the sky of lurking thoughts swirls back.

The river valley awaits again.

 

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