Seabirds and Waves
They cry through open caves,
plunge behind last raised wing.
What crashes into them
is the oceans voice beheaded.
They rollick on the verge
of a rise and fall.
Indoor cats stare out of windows
as heckling seabirds tumble and dive
for shadows of sleek iridescence.
Those hunched upon the land
hear a kraken call
made small,
a throaty ravening,
couched within the seas rolling tongue,
where the free freely hunt
the already captive,
the almost caught.
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