Gulls

Gulls

 by Leonora Speyer

Fearless riders of the gale,

In your bleak eyes is the memory

Of sinking ships:

Desire, unsatisfied,

Droops from your wings.

 

You lie at dusk

In the sea’s ebbing cradles,

Unresponsive to its mood;

Or hover and swoop,

Snatching your food and rising again,

Greedy,

Unthinking.

 

You veer and steer your callous course,

Unloved of other birds;

And in your soulless cry

Is the mocking echo

Of woman’s weeping in the night.