Kevin D. Norwood

Multitudes of seagulls

flap roisterously around me

swooping dangerously close

their wings at times

brushing my arm or bald pate

as they swarm the illicit

popcorn I throw in the air

violating beach regulations

the birds’ hunger and my need

for amusement justify

this wanton display

of shore despoliation

my regret, the consternation

of hungry sandpipers

over-swarmed by gulls

driven off empty-beaked

my time now, past 70, is like

popcorn scattered, eaten, forgotten

remnants swept away by the tide