As annuals at their lives’ ends flower in beds,
blossom and ripen into yellows and reds
as Earth throws scarlet to the day’s end skies –
so the flamingo trying to fly, pounding along
the surface of the water, pink wings flapping, pink feet slapping,
ungainly straining desperate, then sudden rise,
its work rewarded: scarlet, pink, black, strong,
suddenly graceful, airborne . . . and then gone.

*****

This short poem was recently published in Lighten Up Online after the editor’s careful query “Could I just check that Ls 5 and 6, which seem to have six beats unlike the others, are intentionally reflecting the awkwardness of the flamingo’s take-off?” Indeed, and I’m glad that it came across that way – thanks, Jerome Betts!

The current Lighten Up Online is a particularly good issue, with many poems far superior to my poor struggling flamingo.

“France – Flamingo Landing 04/25/16 Explored” by Benjamin PREYRE Photography is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.