By J.J. Tindall
Black Ghost
If a flamingo, be of steel.
Strike a pose in mid-pirouette.
I see myself in Calder’s Flamingo,
bright red steel striving to dance
and my parents are the Federal Buildings,
serene monoliths of dignity, repose
in black steel and glass.
So I am the carefree child at their stolid feet
dancing in both reverence and defiance.
I think my dad wanted me to be Sears Tower.
I think my mom just wants me to be happy.
I don’t think either imagined a flamingo,
even one of strong, stubborn steel.
Posted on August 3, 2010