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Inspired by Die Mowe (The Seagull), postcard art of Carl Rohrig, 1981. |
| A bird which flew on wisps of thought, Did go too low and so was caught. Placed he in gilden cirrus cell; His yanks, his pulls -- subdued. His yell -- Unheard, although cried he in rage, For silence was his golden cage. But one did see and she did plot To flit on down and part the knot. A swoop, a peck, he was dewalled, And so to life and flight recalled. Then feasted they on swampy sedge, And flew out to creation's edge. |