snow globes.

 Not even snowflakes in a snow globe fall so slowly

upwards 

when turned on its side. 

Spiraling

Prismatically 

Upwards 

Undersides of wings remain outstretched

The seagulls glide the currents of the ocean breeze

Holding steady positions as they glide 

On unseen currents 

Like a mobile for a child 

Like a miniature milky way 

Swirling up on currents unseen. 

Running beneath the towering galaxy of birds

The wind smooths out the sea, 

Like a baker rolling out dough, 

The excess of his loaf pushing up the shore. 

Boats far enough out to look like 

Children’s toys scattered

Left behind after a long bath 

In dropped anchor awe

Of the Spanish coastline 

Where the sun reaches long

Spilling like melted butter

From the baker's brush. 

Eventually the breeze peeters out, 

And the birds settle upon the ocean.

“One more dance,” I whisper to the birds. 

Willing them off their aquatic laurels 

But then the honk of a departing cruise ship 

Rips through the air

And you remember the wind carries more than just birds flight 

It brings the reminders of 

All the ways

This might be 

The final 

Curtain call 

Of nature.