Napo 21

Today's prompt was to write about a bird. I saw a roseate spoonbill on my commute this morning, and it was striking.

Texas Flamingo

On another dreary Houston morning,
I’m driving on the freeway, staring up
Into the smoky sky. I sip my coffee,
Let its lukewarm bitterness slide down
My throat. I cross the San Jacinto River—
Wonder how many years this waterway
Has donned this hue of rust. This city robes
Everything in somber colored shawls, it seems.

A roseate spoonbill proves my theory wrong.
He rises from the brackish estuary waters,
Dodging barges, flying through the smog,
And soars across my windshield’s field of view.
The bright magenta of his feathers fill
The morning’s vista with a flash of glory
as he glides with grace above the highway.

How did his feathers get so bright and pink?
He breathes this same stale air. He feasts on fish
From this water where refineries
Dump waste. Like me, he calls this bustling wasteland
Home. But somehow, still, he spreads his wings
And finds the strength to fly above it all,
And for his perseverance, fills this morning
With a little bit of beauty for us all.