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the birds have all been gathering,
the time is almost here,
this no flight of fancy,
it's time to leave this sphere.
the wind has changed direction,
pushing those up north to south.
high up in the skyline,
silhouetted by the clouds,
the flocks they pass us by.
no time to stop,
nor chance to rest,
their journey life or death.
perhaps we'll see them..
in the spring,
when the winds do change direction.
fore now their on their way,
the winter time migration.
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time to go
time to go
