Poetry Dispatch No. 137 | December 10, 2006
P.S. by Franz Wright
I close my eyes and see
a seagull in the desert
high, against unbearably blue sky.
There is hope in the past.
I’m writing to you
all the time, I am writing
with both hands,
day and night.
from WALKING TO MARTHA’S VINEYARD, Knopf, 2004
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Hi!
I’m looking for the original photo of this seagull. Can you help me?