Against a Bleached Evening Sky
these gulls tonight
swoop in formation
switch direction in flight—morph
from thin pale jottings to become
a swirl of strong dark strokes
these gulls tonight
fly with a pulsing rhythm
wingtip to wingtip—one entity—
synchronous motion imprinted
in their cells
and what of us—will we rise
and plunge and rise again together
fingers reaching to sense the other’s trajectory
the two of us breathing as one
inhaling each other
exhaling all else?
—Melissa Huff
First published by RockPaperPoem, December 2024
