Gulls Off Puget Sound


They are braver than we, 

In our spit-slick yellow

Or moody drab wraps,

Mouthing frosty complaints

Against his crystal - laden breath.

Jealous Aelous adores them, these

Squaky white scavengers, nipping peaches

From our numbing fingers, 

Their daring acrobatics

For a bruised plum, 

A piece of fisherman's salty breath,

While we, battered to the rails, 

Waste our words on him

And watch them tumble on deaf ears, scattered

To the sea.

The gulls gulp them in greedy swallows.

Kelly Donohue's Questions:

I wanted to elicit an image more than emotion when I started this, but I do want to know what feelings, if any, come across to the reader.  It started out a completely different poem -- one that I still miss and wonder if I should change it back.  Originally it was more about the wind god and the gulls just came in gradually.  The focus on him eventually died down a little.  Any suggestions would be welcome . . . Thank you.