those who know, will know

Flying Over Flynn,
past the mills spun by wind,
there is a gap in the hills,
spreading view over the 'vills.

Seathing, searching, grinding with might,
a streak, a flash, gone from sight.

Forgotten in a moment,
clouds part and sun stands,
burning crown of light descends.

last gasp of brilliance,
nothing left to pretend.
dropped, in pure delight,
upon the tumbling, fumbling denizens.

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