these gulls

these gulls
on the black pavement,
some hovering
some in huddled groups,
white and gray splotched,
black eyed
with bird musings,
having landed
in this pond
of concrete, having
wandered far into land,
they are unafraid
of you, hardly
moving a wing
as you drive slowly
around their winter
gathering.
how long can they stay
where they shouldn't
be, is what we all
think
on given days.