ONLY THE SEAGULLS
Only the seagulls knew that you had left me -
I shouted to them against the hurling wind
And the fury of the oncoming breakers -
And they burst uncontrollably into a clamorous cacophony,
Shrieking their sadness, unmeasured, illimited,
Rising from the sea in a huge wheeling cloud of feathered whiteness,
Screeching, disemboweling their sorrow,
Lurching in frenzy this way then that,
Resisting the wind dragging them inland from the beach,
And fighting their way back to the sea's domain again,
To plunge and wheel over the tormented foam.
It was not as human grief, limited by decorum or company;
Their grief was animalistic and unfettered,
Loud enough to echo from the savage cliffs and caves
And shrill enough to pierce the deafest ears
Which had not heard the eviscerating news that you had left me.
For their cries went on and on in uncontrolled brutish persistence
Terrible enough to reach the very gates of heaven,
And my shredded soul drained itself of grief with each cry
As the white whirlwind dissipated and subsided.
In the end my heart slowly abandoned animal agony,
And I welcomed its return to humanity with waves of uncontrollable tears,
Shuddering, gushing and cleansing,
A paroxysm of baptismal water washing through my ripped soul
In an effort to heal the loss, of which only the seagulls knew.