Writer's Marathon poem

seagulls own the sky-- even
right up to the point that it
touches water: where its
reflection lies;
and there,
the seagulls dip their toes or their
beaks into the cool divining
line,
are shocked & delighted by how
this feels,
& return to the vast freedom
of currents that carry you
or you ride like roller coasters,
to where rest & risk are safe