Roses are Red, Violets are Violet

Billy’s Seafood

The swirling flock of gulls
Pause their flight

For a brief rest
On the dock

At Billy’s Seafood

Majestic shrimp boats
Bob up and down
On the salty waves
Fishermen donned
In crisp white waders
Unload their bounty

A day’s work is done

Inside the smell is unmistakable
Shrimp, oysters, crab
All await their fate
Gumbo or perhaps a nice Rockefeller

Outside oyster shells blanket the ground
A carpet of old homes no longer needed
A distant horn signals another arrival
The gulls beckon me to stay

Life appears simple in this world
Scoop them up, put them on ice
Make people happy
A nice existence indeed.