Sunday Visitor (Poetry)

A gull sits on a car roof gazing round
as though it is a natural place to perch
he poses nicely — swivels at the sound
of voices on their way to pub or church

The sun is warm, he loiters — takes his time
surveying this quiet patch of rough-cut green
where other birds and squirrels come to dine
he cocks his head and watches — senses keen

He hops across another car’s smooth roof
and leaves, perhaps, a webfoot print behind
as signature or cryptic dusty proof
to baffle some dull car-shampooer’s mind

No fish but seed — the coast (as the crow flies)
at least as much as twenty miles away
his SatNav off, he chanced these unknown skies
and landed here, uncertain if he’ll stay

Maybe it’s just a Sunday morning jaunt
to take the air — explore fresh scenery
bold squirrels jeer and blackbirds mob and taunt
he takes the hint and heads off back to sea