No Place to Land

The eaves sing their songs,
odd harmonies swirling
with gulls as they wheel
worried among the masts.
The crows are hunkered
somewhere in the green
watching the blustery sway.
The chickadees hold tight

as near the trunks as they dare.
Strewn papers scatter my desktop
as I listen to the eaves sing and
envy the birds I cannot see.
I feel for the gulls.
Like me, they can’t find
a place to land
in this capricious wind.

marina gulls

marina rainbow

(gulls:; rainbow:

About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Birds, crow, Poem, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to No Place to Land

  1. Joe Rawlings says:

    Very good. Landing is a problem.

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