2012 OPEN COMPETITION

         2nd Prize £100 -      

         Watching Flamingos with Morgan - E K Wall

        Sky always urges us

        to encounter them,

        from a respectful distance,

        in their sieved enclosure

        enveloping us, subtly,

        in a faint scent of skittish fish.

        And you, who I borrow each

        month from the grubby rim

        of your sink estate, always

        linger, intently crouched in awe,

        overlooking the green water

       shuddering with algae and scum.

       We’ve watched the babies grow

       from grey balls to something

       far stronger. We’ve glimpsed their

       black wing edges trying to beat the

       redundant air on cold mornings.

       And we’ve watched them give up.

       So many times I’ve looked away

       before you see me cry

       as I know again that,

       like the no-longer pink flamingos,

       the familial nets that speckle them with

       shade will always keep you rooted in slime.