GULL INLAND

Gull swept inland over the midland town
Over the damp slate blown windward
Shore gull shored above the grey slate,
Silent on your wings aloft
      Cry gull, cry,
Driven windward into the stormlit night.

The dream of the day done wings high,
High over the heads of the hurrying crowds:
      Blown by a breeze
      Suddenly seen yet silent
Lost image of a world we seek
Speak to us.

Why should we get a glimpse of, guess at,
Forms we hardly knew we sought for,
Worlds we have not made thought for?
      Why gull,
Why so silent on your wings dreaming?