Pain And Seagulls

The gulls were over my house for air.

They like to sluice up a cold stream of air.

Wet grey is their favorite color.

The coldest is a fast-moving grey.

One has to assume it feels good on their eyes. 

They are unimaginably fond of life.

A friend had been killed. 

He had a young family.

Pain elevated to shrieks of joy.