Next Time poem

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A poem I wrote about being a seagull.

Next time, I’ll be a seagull.
I’m going to soar on the gusts.

I won’t mind the cold and the wet,
I’ll sing into the wind.

The café girl told me that she wants to be a swallow next time.

Jokes ran in my head,
“Well you better swallow well in this life.”
She wanted freedom in the air.

Bím ag gol uaireannta.
Sometimes I want to be a seagull.
Next time, I’ll be a seagull.

By Eoin Ó Conchúir. 25 February 2024.

Tune in the background for guitar:
Capo on 1st. Em G.


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