Haiku
The black-winged gull soars
Through the gale, feathers tattered,
Torn–no land in sight.
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
© Cliff Curtis
Through the gale, feathers tattered,
Torn–no land in sight.
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
© Cliff Curtis
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