Circling above, a seagull contemplates his surroundings
Discarded chips on the table below
Occupants mingling, debating the flow
Their chatter like radio static
Wrapped in yesterday's newspaper, smudged and erratic
I glide in the silence, with past friends above
Waiting for the clouds below to clear, hoping you'll become my dove
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Author:
Augie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 27th, 2024 06:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments1
Beautiful work John. I can see the seagull in my mind's eye. I love fish and chips with malt vinegar. Great work.
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