(Star Island, Isles of Shoals, New Hampshire) After you were in bed I walked out by the stone chapel, a shadow no different in the dark than the other peaked outcroppings of rock except for the light I know has been, will be, inside. And I looked up at the sky. Do you know what? The stars were gulls tonight, glimmering, held still in the updraft gusts off the sea. Except one bird who dove into the dark, a spark-white streak across the sky, broke the cold surface, gone. But then, in an instant, rose back up again with a silver minnow in its beak. All this went on, over and over, after you were asleep. And the bell buoy of the moon bobbing in the waves alone rang all night through your dreams to mark the gull's place going and coming home.