Mine, Mine, Minee..

Under the eaves of rippling pinstriped shades
laughter rides rowdy gusts of briny breezes.
Beady-eyed gulls peer at checkered paper offerings
while sunlight glaring, beams, and time that old cliche, freezes.
I still and cast an imploring gaze, to capture nostalgia before it fades.

Mingled, mangled scents surround me like sultry words
wide smiles ablaze despite looming threats to food and fingers.
As the sunset dives behind willowy waves and looming greys,
dulcet tones from a carousel twinkling lingers.
Someone in the peripheral teases, "This place is for the birds."

Clawing toes scuttle along the weathered wooden planks.
I wonder, were they always such a greedy lot?
Then my musings drifting, steep and fly away.
Scouring the horizon with hungry eyes, instinctively I plot
to savor sun-kissed ocean memories with no by-your-leave or thanks.

—A seagull for a day.