Friday, January 9, 2009

Song to a Seagull


Fly silly seabird,

No dreams can possess you,
No voices can blame you,
For sun on your wings.
My gentle relations
Have names they must call me
For loving the freedom
Of all flying things.
My dreams with the seagulls fly,
Out of reach, out of cry.

I came to the city
And lived like old Crusoe
On an island of noise,
In a cobblestone sea.
And the beaches were concrete,
And the stars paid a light bill,
And the blossoms hung false
On their store window trees.
My dreams with the seagulls fly,
Out of reach, out of cry.

Out of the city
And down to the seaside,
To sun on my shoulders
And wind in my hair.
But sandcastles crumble
And hunger is human
And humans are hungry

For worlds they can't share.
My dreams with the seagulls fly,
Out of reach, out of cry.

I call to a seagull
Who dives to the waters
And catches his silver-fine
Dinner alone.
Crying where are the footprints
That danced on these beaches,
And the hand that cast wishes
That sunk like a stone?
My dreams with the seagulls fly,
Out of reach, out of cry.

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