follerin’ bird

Astern came a gull,
 in cold gust, above
 the sunny waves,

 and below the water
 her corpse can’t rest,

 she’s driftin’ and shiftin’
 on sea floor, and she’ll

 rest in Bosses good time,
 but for now follows on with gull.

 Young ‘ uns are Kittiwakes,
 captains harsh to their crew
 return as storm petrels,

 other soul-birds are souls
 of drowned mariners who seek
 prayers of the living,

 or devil-birds that flit over
 corpses of the lost.

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