brief but bitter flurries of snow sweep acrossa street brought prematurely dark by clouds
thick with winter's fury
yellow vapour lamps become reflected glare
from snow compacted into shadowed ice
and gives a sickly glow
but the glimmer of the fading light
I see the shadow of a wingéd form
and the crying of a landlocked gull
4 comments:
Always so forlorn - unless of course they are begging for food.
They are.
We're about the most inland here it's possible to be.
We still have them here, will all winter, I suspect. They are lonely creatures sometimes. Nicely captured.
Thanks -- they scavange on the refuse pits.
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