"Tennessee Seagulls" by Gene Hodge, Frequent Contributor & Poet of the Week

Tennessee Seagulls

Gene Hodge

It’s only a notion . . .

that I park in the mall’s

vacant parking lot

to watch a flock of seagulls

swimming on an asphalt ocean.

Curious as a child,

I observe a distraught Styrofoam cup—

victimized by the cold December wind—

as it tumbles across a sea of parking spaces.

It stops right in front of me

and spins like a playful toy top.

But this is not recess for the gulls.

Their destitute foraging

is dependable on a visitor’s car,

a bag of popcorn, a hand out the window,

white kernels, like snowflakes

flying in the wind.

Poet’s Notes:  It was a cold, windy day, and I was tired from Christmas shopping.  I thought if I could just sit in this empty parking lot and catch a short nap, I could be refreshed.  Sitting there, I observed a flock of seagulls—hundreds of miles from the ocean—flocking together to stay warm.  A few moments later a car stopped near them.  Someone reached out the window and scattered a bag of popcorn into the winter wind.

Editor’s Note:  What an interesting experience!  The mirage of the blacktop as the ocean and the misplaced seagulls are certainly metaphors for many things.  Also, I'm a sucker for anything with seagulls in it :)