Great Black-Backed Gull by Annick MacAskill

Poem title: Great Black-Backed Gull poet name: Annick MacAskill Poem begins: We think we saw it—you were in the waves, your torso pressed to the board, letting go as they formed, their underbellies unrolling from the glint of post-dusk sky to frosted glass, bits of froth casting fish phantoms over the ocean floor.  After a brief dip, I never left the towel, the tan  pages of a library book sticking to my fingers.   You yelled out from the water, pointing— like any other gull, ordinary, its calls swallowed by the distance, remarkable only for its size. We second-guessed;  the binoculars still under the passenger seat of your car, no nomenclature ready for our lips. We tried later in the bookstore, heads bent over the species guide unfolded like a take-out menu  in our hands—the bird at once singular and improbable for how clearly it appeared to us.  end of poem.  Credits: Copyright © Annick MacAskill First appeared in dusie, later published in Murmurations (Gaspereau Press, 2020). Annick MacAskill is the author of No Meeting Without Body (Gaspereau Press, 2018), a finalist for the JM Abraham Award and the Gerald Lampert Memorial Award, and Murmurations (Gaspereau Press, 2020). Her third full-length collection will appear with Gaspereau Press in the spring of 2022. She lives in Kjipuktuk (Halifax, Nova Scotia), which is part of Mi’kma’ki, the traditional and unceded territory of the Mi’kmaq.