The Return

Seagulls line up on shore
attend the breaking waves
until I approach.

They take flight
one by one
glide over white caps
and settle again
when I’m gone.

How I longed to be a gull
to travel beyond
my father’s reach

as he tossed shoes and brooms
with the same intent he threw a football.

I feared his hand
more than the belt.

Even now
when someone near me
gestures suddenly
I jump
afraid of his blow

aching to fly away
until the coast clears
for me to return.