Sea Gulled


Sea Gulled 




Far from the Isle of Appledore in Maine
gulls meander across a grit-salted parking lot
warmed by winter sun the asphalt shimmers
far from the sand of Bridgeport’s Seaside Beach.


Gulls meander across a grit-salted parking lot. 
The hens eye folks with fries beneath umbrellas 
far from the sand of Bridgeport’s Seaside Beach.
Here in Monroe, the Golden Arches gift them treats.


The hens eye folks with fries beneath umbrellas 
enjoying each stray ray of mid-March’s sun. 
Here in Monroe, the Golden Arches gift them treats.
Maine’s coast, its siren song, must wait till May.


Enjoying each stray ray of mid-March’s sun
picnickers and seagulls en mass linger, waylaid. 
Maine’s coast, it’s siren song, must wait till May.
The sea, the clams, the crabs, the wave born turtles


picnickers and seagulls en mass linger waylaid; 
refuse has claimed the shore, the cliffs, and sands,  
the fish, the clams, the mussels, and the crabs, 
fouled by the man’s greed gulled by the need to feed.  


Refuse has claimed the shore, the cliffs, and sands,  
now bird and man sunbath on black tar salted 
fouled by the man’s greed gulled by the need to feed  
guano coats the food sources of predatory bird and man.


The hens eye folks with fries beneath umbrellas;
warmed by winter sun, the asphalt shimmers.
Here in Monroe, the Golden Arches gift them treats
far from the isle of Appledore in Maine.

About the contributor

Deborah Guzzi is the author of The Hurricane available through Prolific Press. Her poetry appears in Allegro, Amethyst, Creative Writing Ink Competition, Shooter, & Foxglove Journal &The Writer’s Cafe in the UK, also in Canada, Australia, Hong Kong, Singapore, New Zealand, Greece, Spain, France, India & dozens in the USA.

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