A Gull-ible scene

Where are the old friends now?

With their pipes and bad Jokes,

White hair and stretched skin, for

Whom staring at the gull was an escapade

On the shore that washed their feet,

Under the summer sun shining bright,

Betting all their retirement money

On whose head the gull will crap today!

The gull of the sea is ready game,

But the friends, alas! Are missing,

Is it an aftermath of the smoke rings

Or a symptom of their vile children

But the gull is sharp at vespers nine

Like the albatross to the ancient mariners,

Is this emptiness among this vast ocean

Just another ill thought misfire?

'tross not gull yet gross and dull

For the airborne friend that looks on,

Summer is dim and sea is stupor

As the gull flies o'er the empty chairs...

~Ajay

A/N- The fourth stanza refers to the 'Rime of an ancient mariner' by Samuel Coleridge