Where Has My Protector Gone
Dreaming of pink flamingos, their beauty,
their bite…dreaming of flamboyant flamingos,
so close to shore; I’m in the ebb and flow.
Where has my protector gone as I regard
the flock; awash with blue sea foam.
Dreaming of their carrot necks; nibbling
the serenity of their stretch; dare I touch
the earth or sky, the sandy beach, question why.
Where has my protector gone as my eyes stray;
why am I pulled by the surf; do I dare mingle?
A sudden shock of night in the brightness of bed.
a solitary digit in the bird’s beak. confident that
my husband will save the day, but it’s not day.
The pressure put upon; I can still feel the squeeze
as I awake in the third strange room of the week.
My protector lies near me, oblivious of my plight.
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