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)

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