By Gary Graybill
I stood looking out at an endless blue ocean deceptively calm with a soundless flow;
The orange ball of the sun kissed the vast horizon blushing the heavens in a coral glow;
I heard a sound and looked to see a single seagull sailing west on an unseen blow.
It glided effortlessly across the face of the setting sun, calling out to another who was not there;
A kindred spirit chasing west, afraid of the lonely night following as a fox after a hare;
I smiled and wished it well for I too was afraid of the lonely night and calling to another who was not there.
[You now know why I never became a poet]
I'm nicknaming you Laryngitis because you're a pain in the neck.
Live Long and Prosper...