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A zone of silence spills deep,
ladled into a pocket of the city,
soon replaced by the fitfull squawks
of birds in revelry.
And from afar, an awareness interrupts
and descends clear and precise,
in an afternoon, in the peak of life:
what is here, is forgiven
whatever not now, forgotten.
The swallows sing as they swim
in their new-found territory.
They sing "today, today..."
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