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 . . .