Grey wings flash before the horizon

Casting flickering shadows on the placid sea below

Caww!

Caww!

Hear them scream in bright of morning

In some strange, cantankerous tongue,

Seemingly struggling for a coherency

Long since lost

As their beady eyes survey the still waters

Gliding,

Skimming,

Piloting currents one can only vaguely intuit

Should their mastery turn elsewhere

Who else could take up the wing

To patrol the eastern shore?