Gulls' Eggs in Eelgrass

When the first young gull,

Quitting its nest, climbs the receding wall

Of wave, I think a wind must pass

Among those wings still cleaving to the roof

Of shell in eelgrass. Lacking better proof,

(Since mind of man is kept in a dark place),

I ask why otherwise this fury fans my skull

Of vanished wings beating beyond the gull?