Birds & Lines

above the line

Above, a black-backed gull

grifts the high way

only gulls trawl,

a sky- valley current

that streams between

beach and harbour.

I look up, see its chest

feathers ironed white by light,

its black wings

rowing west

towards today’s catch:

fish entrails, road kill,

mud crab. I note

how it hauls its cargo

of intent, watch

until it disappears

behind the tips

of trees, envision

the movement, the invisible

trail it tows

behind, imagine it

as a rude disturbance

of time’s dead air.

Kay McKenzie Cooke