gypsy pack
of seagulls
   set up their
   winged city
   on the surface
   of the water

the lights of the city
are replaced
by two
   thousand

black holes
of birds eyes

and the snow feathers
of squawking multitudes

later- darkness falls
the gulls set
no fires

all that can be heard
on shore is the chatter
of birds
               talking
                in their sleep