To be a seagull
Soaring through
The silver blue sky
Clouds looming
Darkening
Yet the sudden earth
Remains dry
Yet sly
Snaking along
In a quickening breeze
The seagull
Flutters
As it sees
What it sees
As the splintered remnants
Of daylight deftly dims
The seagull hesitates
As it espies
Breadcrumbs falling
From the faltering skies
And wonders
As to how this can be
Then notices brie
Floating on the sea
Then realises
As the misted sun dies
That it was merely a dream
The seagull, at first laughs
Then cries
Screeching in a rage
It much prefers camembert
Of a certain age

by Jemia