Wailing Like a Gull

Who told you to speak with
harsh squawking calls?
What makes you think rooftops
and cars want your droppings?
What do you know about
the crest of a wave?
The stillness of the bay?
Who allowed you to perch
your webbed feet upon that dock?
The bow of that white sailboat
being carried by the wind?
Do you think it's polite
to steal food out of an
innocent child's hand
or flock them on the beach?
How do you feel when
they chase you like savages?
Annoying is what you are,
but somehow I enjoy being awoken
by you on a hot summer day.
I guess I would prefer you
to continue on,
wailing like a gull.

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