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From their high angular flight The honking geese glide down In circles onto the mudflats. The wading herons with slow steps Stalk between the reeds piercing The shallow water with their beaks. And suddenly a flock of screeching terns Scatters in a frenzy of wings. From the edge we look Across the expanse of marsh. Between tufts of sedge In shallow ponds wigeons Dabble and groom themselves. Here we stand back. These travellers are let stop over. Rest, feed and move on. |