The seagull said to the pelican, “I’m not really a sea bird but please don’t tell them”

They flew above the bay

Occasionally dove down to hunt and play

The seagull was young, white and gray

The pelican – blue, and a bit more aged

They rested on the pilings

Watched the dolphins, and even the kids on the beach, looking back at them smiling

“Yeah, my feathers are white

I hobble along the coast on these skinny legs

But I don’t know if I’ll ever get this bird thing right”

They observed the ongoing dredge

That seagull listened for anything the pelican said

But the pelican just flew and went about doing what pelicans do

His dark feathers were a blazer

His sharpened pink-gray beak a laser

He made soaring look effortless

While the seagull sat in a state of incongruent distress

The seagull thought of leopards and their spots

Of the careless sandpipers on the rocks

He was in the bay

The pelican simply read his mind

And said only, “Stay”