(Originally published by The Beatnik Cowboy)
it was a humid end of December day
gray and dreary tones abound
clouds thick with sunshine peeking through
parting the floating cotton
shrubs and trees
greener than green
absorbing life they’d been without
no breeze to disturb the water
which lay flat and motionless
so still
every color of rose
available to the eye
their fragrance in the air
the long pier seemed to disappear into the fog
boats lined up like soldiers
awaiting their next deployment
latino men on the bench
speaking spanish I assume
young couples fishing
old couples walking
I was walking
then at the end
which seemed
the middle of the bay
fish jumping
birds flying
me in awe
seagulls prancing in front of me
on the old weathered cracked wood
pelicans seemingly diving to their death
only to retrieve a morsel of heart pumping goodness
my girl recalls a story about pelican deaths
they go blind and die
the constant smashing onto
the top of the water
causes them to go blind
and starve to death
I replied
save the pelicans
invest in tiny goggles
Gloomy Forebodings 