Guillemots Etc

Their days and nights were filled

with black/white arguments

like those guillemots and razorbills

that stood in terraced rows on cliffs

they walked alongside. Echoes of muttered growls

reverberating. Each prolonged sulk

a surly silence. Quarrels resounding hour by hour

till there was no escape from the murk

of shared misunderstandings. Except to fly.

Black-white. Black-white. Black-white.

Their tongues and fingers flapping

as beaks snapped out their final quarrel

before taking flight in flurries of sad and sore goodbyes.