at the front

flap your hover
screaming gull
dreaming
of scraps thrown
over rocks
blown sidewards
into the chase
on breeze stream
updraft waving
sudden flock
and back again
swoop your circle
your rounding troupe
of feathered dipping
bobbing pecks
a racket
drowned a side fly drop
dry leaves scuttle
dash the way
of herringbone paving
darkening grey
a chorus of cloud
rumbles thunder
engines approaching