The seagulls, in from Sligo Bay, <br />Upland to fields at Ladies Brae, <br />Father and sun tractor work over <br />Field grass haircut tight and saved. <br />Now in coiled rolls the grass is harvest like <br />And sun burnt not now green and blowing <br />But drawn like gold in furnace kiln. <br />Back down to barn brought for keeping, <br />Now its late evening. The bright morning sun <br />Makes way for the moon. <br />Milky way and evening light. <br />The seagulls dancing and diving <br />Quickly make light with crows of its late <br />Dinner. <br />From field to page my memories of farmland. <br />The crows gleaning.<br /><br />Bernard Kennedy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sligo-seagull-supper/
