birds feather life cycle breeze

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  As I roomed the beach looking at its beauty,  I saw the most mundane and yet magical sight. The tiniest of birds chirping away, into the sand where their heads lay. 
Gently, softly, flies the feather,Upon the youngest and brightest small breeze.It floats through with low, quiet innocence.Above it, many miles, floats a grey cloud,Which weeps to downward with many a drop,
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