Un Sospiro -A Sigh-

With winter’s chilling sigh Breathing through the air, Seagulls continue to fly Drifting circles—midair. “Here”, he quietly declare Alone to his crying heart. On a colored beach chair He waits lone to depart. Seagulls call a plaintive cry Circling over a silver sea; Feeling his loss—his yen to die, They turn away to flee. A sigh escapes his lips. He mourns a life ceded— His cries go unheeded. Grief grows unimpeded.