Morning Gull*



the lone white gull

loping low along

the bay line

opens avenues

to unknown islands

'round the point,

dissolving just

before the eye

of dawn awakes.


His flight disturbs

the virgin air

and pries the first

light lather loose

of stretching tides.

Between the breathing

of the rising wind

his fresh imprint

whispers across

the shaken mist


the journey's underway

and softly signed.



*Accepted in Sisters Today (late 1998).