a seagull-
stoic
on one leg
on a highway
light post
a-waiting.
a portrait
of this age

Driving to work is sometimes just the worst. Sure, I am not dealing with anything that awful, but some days it seems to drain me, to pound down on me, to chisel at me like a hammer on rock, I try to ignore the ping of the hammer’s head… as best I can, some days it works, some times not, but then some days it seems the entire world is in conjunction to thwart my morning, to divert my intention, to bury my usual positive mention, I would love to tell you I win every time, but no, like all things, there is no firewall strong enough, no light bright enough to burn within all the time, as much as we try and learn, so I was driving in, on one of these miserable winter days, sky grey, days ranging from bitter cold to not pouring but very reminding rain, and just I saw this, which I have seen before, but some how it hit me more, at least this day, a seagull, sitting there, as if to say, as if to speak to me, sitting above the fray, quite literally, and then I was awash with OK, well, at least for a moment, at least, that this bird who really reminds me of youth, because of the sea, just standing there like a sentinel, a stalwart, a bulwark, a symbol of what I needed at the moment… even if it all went to fade as soon as the next jack ass rolled up on my six practically parking their car up my ass to where I could taste their bumper (and dumb bumper logo stickers). … … … But that looked down upon scavenger, the dirty bird, a seagull, able to elevate and stand above… alone and against the scrum… so that is the feel I was going for here in this piece.