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.