Portents
Kari A. Flickinger
Go back
who knew gulls at dawn
bear warning?
The bell in the campanile tolls.
Quiets the gulls.
A breath between their warning words.
Orange piercing silence through
wracking caws
calms a calamity of frenzy.
Winds warm will.
O deep ocean so near the desperate
Feathers.
Cackle in
this ditch hidden in this
seed and star
un peu à gauche de (planets)
near the milkiest
stream—down
an ivy way.
