Two Pink Flamingos

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They are the only ones who entertain me.
I am the one who giggles at their appearance.
Two pink flamingos with toothpick thin legs and scooping necks outside.
Two who are not native here.

Two magenta birds rooted in my garden.
From my window I can watch them,
But they do not mind me.

Their stillness is tranquil.
They radiate cheery feelings my way.
They cannot leave nor can they fly
With their majestic wings spread across the azure sky.
This is why they remain.

One may chip or break into pieces,
The other would become
The lone survivor in harsh Mother Nature.

Fly, fly, fly,
Flamingos whisper as I step out on my porch.
They encourage.

When clouds pour rain and clean the flamingos,
When I am too dreary to flash a smile,
Then it is I who visits the flamingos.
When there is nothing left in my garden.

Two who remain despite the weather.
Two who amuse and enliven my days.
Two whose purpose is to add color and joy.





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