by Gwen Bindas
from her book, In This Place (Infinity Publishing; 2004)

Wingspan as it tilts white

In the overcast sky of an early spring morning:

Gulls circle, then descend,

As much motion as cry.

Creatures so far from shore,

They hover, suspended above trolley tracks,

Hubcaps, a crumbling cement barrier.

They dive, trusting, into a cityscape

Devoid of tide and misty horizon.

It’s a curious sort of progress,

To migrate this far from water,

To touch down near the possibility of sustenance

Amid broken asphalt,

Dusty stones, shiny metal stakes.

Gwen Bindas is a teacher at CELOP.  Sometimes in Summer is her third published book of poetry.