Seagulls And Day Old Bread
Standing on the second floor veranda,
A huge railed in porch,
I hear the raucous screams of the seagulls
Fighting over scraps of bread.
Flying in on the Gulf breeze through the maze of,
Live Oaks adorned in Spanish Moss, fragrant magnolias, and enormous Pecan trees lining the streets,
They are getting too bold and coming closer by the moment.
They appear threatening to snatch the day old bread from my very hands.
But though they appear fearless,
Discretion prevails, and so does the better part of valor.
What a racket,
Glad this loaf of day old bread, is gone.
7/4/13 Galveston Island.
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