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Cirrus Minor

In a churchyard by a river
Lazing in the haze of midday
Laughing in the grasses and the graze
Yellow bird, you are not alone
In singing and in flying on
In laughing and in leaving 
Willow weeping in the water,
Waving to the river daughters,
Swaying in the ripples and the reeds.
On a trip to Cirrus Minor,
Saw a crater in the sun
A thousand miles of moonlight later.