The air is home
The hunt is alone
Labor of flight
each sense to hone
Distances outlying
speeds so dizzying
Prey never sees brutal incursion
the dive bomb art no distortion
raised to ride the winds
Epitomy predatory sins
A demon outcast
Worlds never outlast
Reeling through the draughts
surging with the blasts
getting high on the friction loud
running the current bound clouds
Lord Berners soul ember fed in a
line of fire across the horizon
cut the troposhere beak and scorn
motoring fearlessly beyond harsh storms
(Andy Levitt- The modest Peregrine)
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