In the city of the gulls,

along with all the other pieces hatched

by gulls clamoring sunrise law,

there came you, largely a wound,

to the courtyard of brick.

Baby worm-wing,

thinglet never to fledge,

despite all that made those feathers grow

something happened in the nest . . .

And during the fracturing into many

you wandered, for just a while,

juvenile on a tether of hurt.

I witnessed the meeting of you

and your weak reflection,

trembling for strength, for others

already spent, my atmosphere pulsing

with y...