Twenty-first Saturday, one week late

Black barge slips downstream.

Chugging tug is far ahead

Fighting the current.

Cawing gull swoops down,

Knocks another off piling,

Settles, glares around.

Sparrows search for crumbs.

Muffins remains cause for joy.

Flock comes to breakfast.

(How come no one told me I forgot to post these? Sorry, it was a hectic two weeks.)

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