THE SIEGE

A stroll along the beach
The soft sand between my toes,
The warm breeze glides through my hair,
Seagulls come hovering down
Where they will feast
As the other birds look on, waiting…
Waiting for their turn in the siege.

I stop and stare, their blank eyes stare back,
I turn to look at the glistening water
All seems too quiet where I stand and wait amid noisy torture,
When I turn to walk the other way
I cannot see and I cannot hear any more.
I walk west the golden sun disappears as I do