Cycling slowly beside the lakes
I stopped    entranced
by the fluid swoop and dip
of a hundred white gulls
criss-crossing like silk ribbons
just feet from the water
 
Wondering what they saw
on the shimmering surface
that twilight had turned metallic
there beyond their own reflections
beneath their darting shadows
 
What was it that made them skim 
with such casual grace   such elegance
as if the tiny prize held delicately
in beak or claw
was really nothing at all