Thursday, 31 July 2025

Squawking of gulls

 


It’s normally quiet at midnight.

The still silent air peacefully lulls

sleepy thoughts to arrive.

So why tonight

am I hearing the squawking of gulls?

Why are the animals agitated?

Has something disturbed the atoms,

reverberating in a sound unheard,

a low vibrational grind

that is already

so engrained within my mind

that I can only hear

the sounds that sit

out of time. The sounds

you don’t normally find.

 

I watch the foxes

as they glare at the sky.

Teeth bared

as if an enemy is near

and they are ready to fight,

but there is just me

and the still atmosphere.

What am I missing?

The animals are hissing.

Screeching. But all I see

is empty darkness

and the fallen night.

 

I glance around.

Neck hair senses something

my brain can’t perceive.

It pulls away from my skin,

aching to leave.

It pulls at the nerves inside

as I feel something is not right.

The animals and I

in fear of the normally peaceful night,

but what sits in the blank space

before my eyes?

The darkness clouds the light,

The darkness hides fear in my eyes.

 

Do they hear something?

Are my ears numb to its sound?

Is it back?

That awful grind,

Is it moving through

the atoms all around

inaudible to our tired minds?

Is it back?

After so long. Ready to attack.

To make us fall as one.

Is it back

that dreaded hum?

Then I fear our time is almost done.

 

 




Thanks for reading
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Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle

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