{"sf1_id":2193633,"sf2_id":"XnrpEOPe","title":"Coven","author":"harpier","words":60,"posted_at":"2024-10-26T18:43:12.000Z","tags":["Bird","Halloween","Poem","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2193633-coven","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/XnrpEOPe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/57/22/5722c17e-ae0d-4841-9894-6514ce76a2df","description":"Miss the swallows","content":"The sun is still high, or it sets  \n  \nBut I find your black and white feathers the same.  \n  \nGathered in flocks you call and play  \n  \nAnd I can’t help but think of you  \n  \nAs a witch’s coven,  \n  \nEven as you are delightful and good.  \n  \nIrony is that you covens gather in the spring,  \n  \nAnd in this Autumn I miss you."}