Fish Eagles over Lake Kariba
Who fears the turning of the final page ?
Not I !
For in that new Kariba dawn, rising
Crimson 'gainst night's fleeing, skulking, dying sky
As early ripples kiss lake's waters, smooth
There will be another Eagle, flying high !
With the rest - in Joy - he'll cry
And all will hear, and some may even pause and turn
And wave a fond "Goodbye."
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