three gulls before the storm, far out
in the ocean. Their easiness, even though
something difficult is coming.
Surrounded by the vastness
of a life yet to be lived,
I floated in the large wind
of my childhood,
read my books on magic
and threw my ball again and again
into my mother’s bed of lilies,
waiting patiently, the good boy I was,
for all that easiness to end.