By: Ardis E. Parshall - May 13, 2014 Gulls Follow a Plow By Ethel Romig Fuller The seagulls always sense the time somehow –Incited by primordial hungerings –The very dawn a farm lad starts to plow;And come by cohorts inland, their great wingsSails billowing against the primrose east,To follow with the grackles, row by row,The share that noses a Lucullan feastFrom soil where corn and pumpkins soon will grow. And who shall blame a lad,...
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