Seagull
Alone.
A seagull
runs across the wet sand
in the early morning mist.
Dappled grey feathers
and a shattered wing.
He
shall no more
soar
into the blue vault
or
dip into the sea
to pluck a fish.
He
will never see
another
morning's mist
for
he has lost his license
to the sky.
Alone.
He
waits here for death.
Soon,
dogs dashing across
the wet sand
will find him
welcome sport.
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