Fairhope Pier

(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