Breakfast on the Beach
by Travis Blair

A drenched seagull hip hops
beneath tables, snatches soggy
scraps from puddled floor.
I watch over coffee cup steam
as he bounds to the door
and weighs whether
dashing into the storm
is a survivable notion.

Outside the pavilion, rain throws
sideway tantrums and fire hose
spray. The tempest din drowns
Willie’s Bloody Mary Morning
pouring from ceiling speakers.
I can’t see the sun climbing out
of the Gulf, can’t hear the frenzied
waves roll in, but I’m determined
to enjoy early morning beach
breakfast and watch the seagull
critique the soppy presentation.

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