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the circle
phantoms
sunrise
beautiful
fruit frees

circle

phantoms

The cold silver moon rises over the estuary.
The silver water, as still and flat as the dark sky harbours
A flock of swans
Black as the night
Silent as the stars
Gliding like spirits over the inky mirror.
Gliding over the ghostly bright moon as if
A flock of swans
Black like the night
Silent like stars
Fly shadowy like phantoms
Across its shining face.