The Sudden Death of a Seagull, by Guy Fletcher

I was rudely awakened from my daydreams
early on a Saturday morning
hearing a loud thud on the lounge window
and peering outside I spotted a still form.
I donned a pair of gloves and reluctantly
picked up the doomed seagull, a forlorn sight
which had crashed to its death with all its might.

There was no blood as far as I could ascertain
but I only half-stared at the poor thing
as I threw it over the garden fence.
It was a reminder of my own mortality
and how uncertain the future is.
I imagined it at its best soaring high,
beautiful view...but it fell from the sky.