A Poem A Day, Day Fourteen

Sea gulls flying in formation
like each is a knot in a crocheted blanket thrown from the sky.
I make my way in my little human meat boat across the ocean of concrete,
hauling my shopping cart towards the illusive shore, I mean store,
as they dive for morsels of garbage and cigarette butts.

Sometimes my little dot turns and looks at the beauty of it all.

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