Today's poem is by Lynne Potts
Gull with Telephone Wire
She painted a boat on the flat of the harbor,
filled it with box-houses and set it afloat.
It was their ark for painting, they said.
At first they painted together, then he went past.
A gull will take to a telephone wire,
lose itself at sea, then find a stick for a nest.
She had come to the houseboat to paint.
Soon he was Noah; she, whatever is a wife.
Copyright © 2015 Lynne Potts All rights reserved
from Porthole View
National Poetry Review Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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