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?
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
Ephemeral Elegies 
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