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.