white gull

a white gull wails
on a windy beach
some place in time
if you can call it a beach

I wouldn’t call it a beach
I’d call it

broken stones
on the earth’s bare bones
with icy breakers
that have no home
black icy breakers
on a broken beach
so bruised and broken
bruised and broken

a white gull wails
inside this room
it hovers low
its shadow looms
this bare white room
this lonely room
so bruised and broken
bruised and broken

8 thoughts on “white gull

    1. Thanks very much. I’m so glad you liked this one. I think in truth I’d been staring at a white ceiling for too long and it somehow took me a desolate shore. I should probably get out more.

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