Connor Mac Writing

The seagull who stands upon

Her burning church spire

With fading days light

Stretching from a far

Projecting only to her

Engraving her presence

Onto the secret sense

Of a day almost done

 

She transforms, forgetting all the stealing

Scrounging, deceit and treachery

Of the day’s harsher hours

The feathers flying and beaks abiding

The struggle for just one more day of life

And all that it tarnished in its wake

 

She forgets it all as she

Stands tall and somber

Atop of her solitary

Passion producing post

Her shimmering church spire

 

Whatever lies beneath can wait now

For it’s beyond her and she beyond it

Time for visions of peace and desire

Atop of her burning church spire