it doesn't work that way unless you grab the lead gull's beak and pull until a thousand wings unzip the sky, thin air parted from blue waves split along a conga flight-line of birds from shore to shore their haka gull cries like Māori stamping and line dancing on the beach, horizon halved, snaps of winter's coat popping open, the flocked velvet of our flight so new that down glistens from sun breaking on the surface of the water we don't know what to say to each other just watch the sky unfold like two great wings of blue lifting us higher as line after line of gulls keep coming, line after line of white hyphens with black commas at the tips of their wings pulling toward some vista of summer and home that beckons but never arrives
was never meant to arrive just keeps us
moving towards the distance
you and I holding hands
still amazed
The Sunday Muse
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qbit 
This is mind-pop poetry. Most excellently existential. Thank you.
Love these:
“line after line of white hyphens with black commas at the tips of their wings pulling toward some distant idea of summer”
“grab the lead gull’s beak and pull for a thousand wings to unzip the sky”
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Thanks! Love “mind-pop poetry”!
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A wonderfully tight stream of consciousness write .. taking the reader along for the ride. And now I can take a breath ….
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whatever you are on, I want some. Pure ingenuity in your writing here – a veritable outpouring of imagery that flies off the page on that wing formation of words
“until a thousand wings unzip the sky, thin air parted from blue “
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LOL!!! Thanks!
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Amazingq bit
Happy Sunday
Much💛love
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Love this–it’s mesmerizing. Wonder what it would sound like spoken.
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This is a quite a journey you have brought us on that only you could do Qbit!! So many amazing lines leading to a sweet and glorious finally.
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Home that beckons but never arrives – the crux of this. The pull into the eternity of the horizon, into the longing unmet on this shore. Let us fly off with the gulls, perhaps they know the way. Great visual structuring!
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And if you can’t grab a bull by the horns, grab a gull by the beak!!!
OK, fine, don’t ever try and do that, but y’know, you weren’t actually going to do any bull horn grabbing either Mr. Hemingway!
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This was a trip qbit (don’t remember your name). Surreal and splendid – great fun to read. A plethora of fascinating imagery — liked it bunches!
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Free-wheeling, mind-bending, spell-casting write!
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Conga, baby! Bup bup bup bup bup BOW! Bup bup bup bup bup BOW!
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Beak dancing!
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Feels like a perfectly wonderful day ❤
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I’m amazed. I think the poor gulls are also.
Do you know that the hooded gulls live in Central America during winter and then about this time they fly here, over the Gulf of Mexico, to the upper Texas wet and wooded land to breed.
..
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It’s my second read on this (in order to comment) and I discovered a romance. Just wonderful.
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Yes!!!
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This is trippy funness…So love it…Wish I could fly with those visions.
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