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Period Of Adjustment
In haste you accept me like
Whirlwind
Romancing the cliffs and stone
Then we settle for the nest of
An eagle
Up there where no one climbs
The eggs are safe
What have I become of myself?
Something you feed on
I am still this fish
With scales and gills
Unable to adapt to your lungs and beaks
and your threatening claws
and wings
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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