Mack Hall
Migratory Waterfowl
Loud-quacking, honking, singing, winging, they,
Beneath their wild-wind-beating wings rise up
From the waters of life, towards the sun,
Refreshed in holy pilgrimage along
Cold sky-trails from a long-ago warm nest,
Across the tattered scapes of history,
To a perfect visual landing at dawn
In the golden trees of Jerusalem
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