Thursday, March 3, 2011
Poetry: 100 Gulls
The 100 gulls were like a small crowd I once saw, scuttling its way around a library first to one place, then another. Moving en masse like a living organism, oozing around the stacks like an amoeba. The gulls were a presence like the spirit of God hovering over the forsaken city. Like men with lanterns looking for one wise man. I looked up and saw what no one else did, what no one else cared to see. I received the gift, they went unblessed.