The pure silver seagull
wrapped its wings
around my finger
“it’s your totem,” you whispered
(we were into totems in those days)
as you handed it to me
it turned out to be a going-away present
I never saw you again
and thirty years later
I discovered where you escaped to
wrote you a letter
which you never answered
wrapped its wings
around my finger
“it’s your totem,” you whispered
(we were into totems in those days)as you handed it to me
it turned out to be a going-away present
I never saw you again
and thirty years later
I discovered where you escaped to
wrote you a letter
which you never answered
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