Gulls

The not-there seagulls were agitated today.
In the near dark of the winter morning twilight
I could not make out what the cause of their irritation might be.
The ink-blue of the early sky providing insufficient light for me to discern
Anything more than silhouette shadows of silent buildings
And barren branches.
I hurried on
Lest I become the target of their attention.
Above the calls continued.
Despite myself I looked up
But as always
The sky was empty save for the noise.