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Rex Lowman 137 Wingéd Words Only the wind can bring your voice tonight And only wind can speak the subdued thunder That is the speech of wingéd men flying under High cirrus clouds, drenched in a haze of light. Only the shadow of your passing flight Against the moon can rend our hearts asunder From their new fear and stir again to wonder The riven mind that knew an empty height. For you are not of this earth from whom there passes This curious, this indistinctive speech That holds the rustling of terrestrial grasses And sound of silence in the very breach Of space profound. Even a godhead girds Its majesty upon these wingéd words. ...

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