Turning Tides by L. M. Montes

The gull took flight and pushed against wind,
then cocked its head, stared at me, and winked,
the absent minded upturn of the corners of my lips
spread wide across my cheeks, nodding as I did.
Its wings wafted as it hovered this way and that,
then dipped and swooped, clasping to its catch.

I moved my sight to play along the sinking horizon,
as a ship sat buoyant moving as a turtle not to liven,
yet reached its seismic body to impress upon my mind,
its depth and height, commanding a presence that aligned
an inner respect within my soul as my breath inhaled,
and gasped as nature stood and then impaled.