The Morning Swarming Poem by Dennis Lange

One cannot be upon the sand
And smell the salty air,
And hear the crashing of the waves
Without the seagulls there.

Their presence is pervasive as
The omnipresent wind
Which strokes the surface of the sea,
And makes the waters bend.

When seagulls see, with eagle eye,
A bite within the hand,
They mob and move to skin as near
As moves the gritty sand.

We see the gulls swarm ev'ry treat,
So no surprise this one:
That early in the morning light,
The seagulls swarm the sun.