Eyes of a sea-bird
Endeavour to skim.
From the cliff-top down, is all
The blue sky to him.
A storm-edging wing
Makes as a riposte.
Pointing, by chance, as it dips
To sails' conceit, lost.
As wave-expelled spores
To whiten the rocks
Shape, all the rest, through the air
In a rifle's shocks.
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