The King

The king of seagulls sat by the window sill
It had only one leg the other lost in battles
Years ago, no it looks scruffy old age had
Taken its toll and shrieking seagulls above
Sensed its weakness and had no mercy
Towards the elderly, it was seen as in us
Society, as useless taking up space.
I opened a tin of sardines and fed its content
To the old gull, I opened another tine and
The early bird looked stronger.
It became a ritual the bird landed on the sill
Also, I fed it sardines in oil.
One day it wasn’t there it had disappeared
Into the blue wonder.
I eat sardines every day now, (had to) after
Buying so many tins.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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