Seabirds

The horizon blurred at its edges
As a lone black dog strolled along the beach
It'd been several years since I'd visited you
And I felt again like that little boy with sandy feet

Bruce was showing his age around his muzzle
As grey as the fog we found ourselves in
We had pastries from that French bakery down the block
With the chocolate croissants that I was obsessed with for a summer

Your desaturated hair now matched Bruce's drooling smile
Like two lovers who with years together, start dressing alike
You said you volunteer at the local shelter on weekends
And it helps you focus on each day as it comes

Low tide was breathing deeply
And the hermit crabs were trying their best to hide
The town seemed more bustling than usual
And you snarked that the tourists run rampant this time of year

A cigarette butt surfaced between my toes
Like the rearing of a bad memory
I wished there was more time to burn with you
And that we could keep walking together through this miles-long ashtray

Eventually, I asked if you ever feel nervous
When the government checks, well, sometimes they run late?
Through your silence, I saw the mist in your eyes
Clearly with his broad outline

As we continued walking
We came across a dead seagull, lying on the shoreline
I asked if we should give it a proper burial?
Dismissively you said, the ocean takes care of these things
Seabirds are supposed to be buried at sea
like sailors