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WHAT IT MEANS TO FLY
One hundred years
Is a long time to reflect
We bask now in the glory
Of moon walks
And probe the planets
By remote control
But we dream
Of a simpler time
When two young brothers
Mere bicycle mechanics
Created a miracle
On the dunes
Of a windswept beach
At Kitty Hawk
And after all this time
We are no closer
To capturing it in words
