Seagulls scatter where I stare
myself into the ocean, whose blue
reflects whoever’s gaze it
catches, growing stuck in the
mind’s red door humming self-
significance. The black scar
of sky overlooks this– summer’s
paint dripping onto the canvas
of the next, a bell ringing
after class, learning the
reverberations of its own
footsteps shuffling.
(originally published in Hamline Lit Link, Winter 2019)