Autumn Sky Poetry . . . Number 9 . . .

The Gull

     by Pattie Seely

It was sudden

to come upon her

that way—

the usual way

Life interrupts Herself

and seems to take

neither joy nor sorrow

in such suspension,

only quiet indifference

to our desires. I was

walking the boardwalk

along Lake Ontario

the waters steely

on a January day

of pearl clouds.

The planks creaked cold

beneath my weight

with a dry crunch

from a dusting of snow.

Then I saw her.

At first I hoped for rubbish

something tossed


over the sands where

an old north wind

would have laid it

against the snow fence.

But then I knew

when I saw

white feathers lifted

in the tendrils

of an inconspicuous

wind. So I

found my way

through the maze

of weathered, winter fences

and there she laid


with her head looking

backward toward the deep

and dark waters and

tucked beneath her wing.


a kettle of gulls swirled low

white under gray

and soon fell

into the Great Lake

like a long string of pearls.

© 2008 Pattie Seely

Pattie Seely lives and writes in the old sand basin of Lake Ontario outside Rochester. Her stories, essays, and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in journals including Orion Magazine, Amelia Magazine, Buffalo Spree, Acorn, 971 MENU, and Dark Sky Magazine.