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The Day After Labor Day by Joan Bransfield Graham
September breeze, an island chill,
the streets so quiet . . . still,
seem wider now
but soon they fill
with gulls
that stride and squawk
and boldly walk
the middle of the road—
I wish I understood
gull-talk
perhaps they, too, feel harmony
no crowds, no noise
now once again
just sand, waves, sky, and sea
. . . just gulls and me
*****
Link to poem. Any formatting errors should be assumed to be mine.
the streets so quiet . . . still,
seem wider now
but soon they fill
with gulls
that stride and squawk
and boldly walk
the middle of the road—
I wish I understood
gull-talk
perhaps they, too, feel harmony
no crowds, no noise
now once again
just sand, waves, sky, and sea
. . . just gulls and me
Link to poem. Any formatting errors should be assumed to be mine.
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