I heard the cry of a gull

towards forever.

This morning early
while putting on the coffee
I heard the cry of a gull
high over the harbour
and it didn't remind me of the waterfront
where my brothers and I
grew wild, covered in seaweed,
racing for clams, flapping our arms
as we ran the mudflats
and the birds rose around us
crying and circling. It didn't remind me
of Jericho where my daughter, 
with a paper bag of bread crusts 
clutched in a chubby fist, tossed
fat crumbs onto the waves
and squealed as the big birds
reeled and landed around her.
It didn't remind me
of the falling lament of gulls
outside my mother's window,
as I stood in her smoky bedroom
preparing to clean out the closet while my father
sat on their deck alone, waiting
for the deed to be done. What I remembered

was you, and a brief moment in Tofino 
when love was a thing
that we drew with sticks on the sand
a thing that filled with light
as the waves came in
and soaked the toes of our boots
what I remembered
was your laugh
and the gulls 
carrying the sound of it heavenward
towards forever.

---

A group of us are writing a poem a day for seven days on the Waters Poetry Workshop - these kinds of workshops can produce some nice poetry - it’s important to write, if you want to be a writer (ha ha), and once your muse knows you’re gonna be there, it will come to you.