Most tourists left weeks ago
and snowbirds have yet
to arrive. Seagulls don’t care
and cluster by the pier
each morning. At first light
they flutter above worn
gray planks eager for crumbs
as waves rhythmically
roll shore-wards and kiss
empty beaches. That’s life
in a coastal town far
from the bars and roadside
attractions where old men
and widows park themselves
on Adirondack chairs
made from recycled plastic
to admire one more sunset
as it slips into the gulf.
