The Seagull

Alison L. JamesPoetry

Floating on currents of air
Warmed by ebbing tides
And shifting winds,
His shadow circles from overhead.
Wings extended, soaring along
The windswept beach.
He hovers at the water’s edge
To mark his target,
Then up, up, positioning
A little higher,
He prepares to dive.
Swooping down
Faster, faster,
With head extended
He snatches out of the waves
A wriggling crab
Too hard to eat.
He flies over the stony beach,
Smack! He drops the crab below.
Did it crack?
No, up once more for a second try.
And again, and again,
There is method in this madness!
The crab smacks down upon the stones,
Success! With beak filled,
He flies off to his resting place
To enjoy the spoils.
More! More! More!
There must be more!
Screech his flock scampering at the water’s edge.
Perched atop a low rock
He watches and waits
And waits and watches
His keen eyes focused on the water.
A wave breaks over the rock,
He flutters up but lands upon the water.
Now bobbing on the waves
He spots his prey.
Then up his flies
To dive once more.
How many times will it take
To break a hardened shell
And find the heart within?