NaPoWriMo 11 : Et tu Brute?


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Gulls in flight over Marmara Sea, Turkey                Photo credit: ReenaPrasad

Seasons


In an afternoon that wore the garb of dawn

clouds sat upon their gold
and a lone gull upon the hull
As a gull-nado swept the skies,
the boat started to rock

The ones who came with me could not stay long
The ones I found were soon lost
The ones who agreed to row
were nowhere to be seen
I became the boat
and they all-
the sea

Into the storm I went
whirled around by the waters
that had floated me before

The season changed, the migrants left
The lone gull moulted
revealing a black head
Et tu Brute?
well then, let me drown

©Reena Prasad

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