(The poem is best read in landscape view, so as to keep the original formatting intact.)
This year when the ginormous flamingos arrived
Harold and Lilith, little brother and sister so,
lassoed the pinkest and to the sky they arose—
above all the straw maidens playing games with life’s fire,
the slow dancing couple living in oaky time,
coryphees pas de deuxing in the courtyard just so,
sad child with stolen moon in green tenement’s glow,
beyond the lighthouse, the cheering crowds waving their byes,
all keys, words, autumn’s brown leaves, between light’s oceans
until they were a glint in the camera’s wide eye,
and the sighs of the heron falling from the sky.
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