I’m New England woman in my mind,
a transcendental eyeball on a hill…
I’m hiking boots pacer in gray wool
sweater under layered against itch
I’m gazer at dewed spider webs,
I’m sheltered…early in a box house
of sunsilvered windblown pine
and…I dream about flamingos
pin Geographic glossies inside
my kitchen cupboard door…where
I store white cups and plates and bowls
and… I think about the hearing of
their raucous squawking in flame pink
beauty pools…and I smile to think
they synchronize direction in a gawky
urgent mating dance…there in Africa,
Peru…Belize…Galapagos…and…and
the Caribbean…in narrow arrow flight,
flower washed rose carnation amaranth
now…I gaze at tropic embers in my hearth
glimmering…resin sputters in gray ash
and I boil live lobsters in a cooking pot
and listen for their tiny scream
Bonnie Marshall
Art by John Audubon
“Flamingo and Roseate Spoonbill”
Proem... 
whoa…did I have fun with this one. My daughter has this kind of snarky bent while being the most generous person I know. Wowzers Bonnie. Good one…..
Grateful appreciation, Jana. Hope it’s not snarky, though. I considered including a video clip from Disney’s Fantasia that is brilliantly daffy…delightful…daft. Old Walt truly captured them. Smiles…
Eye of the beholder Bonnie, and in this day and age “snarky” to me is a delightfully cultivated daffy healthy.
Point taken, dear friend…rather makes me think of Violet on Downton Abbey…Maggie Smith has delightful…ruffled feather moments when she resembles an exotic bird. Love that character…shall miss her.
Exactly!
some wonderful diction in the poem. interesting how the first 2 stanzas frame the middle section about the dream of flamingos. vivid contrasts between the New England, ash-gray Emersonian persona who boils live lobsters and the gorgeous tropical colors of these birds as they do their awkward mating dance. i hear the last line (who says that writing and reading poetry is for sissies?).
I’m deeply grateful for your detailed affirmation. Very. Smiles.
Enchanting, I have to keep going back to read it again and again, it echoes my dreams…
I don’t know how to respond to such very kind words, except…thinking…how grand they are to read. Smile…
The National Geographic was my connection to the world as a kid. Pre-internet of course.
Mine, too. Cover to cover…fascinating places…like Australia.
Mine, too. Cover to cover…fascinating places…like Australia. Smiles…
And isn’t love like this – a tiny scream amid the tropical splendor that makes us boil ourselves alive?
Yes, so true.