The Language of Seagulls

His cry’s a stentorian swoop in the azure, draws curlicues in and out of the clouds. Apart from the flock, with its dodging and fighting, he lifts up his beak and whispers of wind. He lowers his feet, curves his wings, scrawls a wake, a poem in water with fricative feathers, a lone gull’s sonnet […]

Sitting on the bottom step…

I wondered what lurked in the landing’s shadows. I listened to the creak of breathing wood and the wash of my imagination’s shallows. I whispered to the upstairs ghosts mollifying volleys of hallos and showers of secrets and prayers – just making sure they stayed upstairs. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden […]