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A weekly video reading of poetry by the poet.
Seagull
by Charlene Knadle
I knew your presence first
by your shadow
preceding me
in the parking lot.
Out of the car,
I heard your cry
looked up to see you
winging open-mouthed
into the breeze.
You were surrounded--
by two, who alternated
coming close--who
turned when you turned,
silent, focused on you.
Were you disturbed
by their urges--or yours--
wary of nature's dictates?
Did you seek to warn them away
or hope that I, emerging, would?
Or were you calling them,
hoping for the one right one
to find you--even in
that endless, sunny sky.