Lament Poem by Harry St Vincent Beechey
Lament
The gulls are crying again
And there is little I can do
To assuage a grief so inconsolable.
A handful of bread
taken on the wing
Or fought for
In a savage, pecking, squawking scrimmage
Serves to distract them for a moment
From their wheeling, keening sorrow.
But all to no avail.
They ride the wind again,
Mourning a loss we feel at the edge of consciousness.
H.St.V.Beechey
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2/21/2026 12:31:06 AM # 1.0.0
