Wings by Alan Cohen

I never could master
The use of wings
Nor is it something any bird could teach me
With a flight IQ of 20
My envy of seagulls
Is bitter and intense
I stand on the ground
Watching them veer and circle
Wishing myself aloft
But flapping wildly
I fall from the sidewalk into the canal
And emerge fetid and bedraggled
So I return to my room
Read in a book, write in one
Restore my self-respect
If we were paid to fly
I’d be on welfare
Wouldn’t you?
While swifts and hawks and seagulls
Would live on Park Avenue
They already do, don’t they?
Photo by Tim Mossholder on

About the Poet:

Alan Cohen

Poet first

Then PCMD, teacher, manager

Living a full varied life

To optimize time and influence

Deferred publication, wrote

Average 3 poems a month

For 60 years

Beginning now to share some of my discoveries

Married to Anita 40 years

in Eugene, OR these past 10

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