The Adolescent Flamingo

Standing on long pink straws
Feet wedged in the muck
Sunset feathers without flaws
Much too beautiful to pluck.

Standing in a field of blue
And salty pads of land
Eyes that wander, clear and true
To the world beyond the sand.

Time moves slow for weary wings
That beat just like a drum
Gliding through the wind that sings
Comforting the numb.

Then the air begins to warm
After a long and tiring run
No less spirit, no less charm
And their journey finally done.

Ecstatic are the ones that fly
Home among the rest.
A season away, by and by,
Until returning there to nest.