Pink Flamingos stand on my internal lawn; they represent each random thought or fleeting feeling that I have.
The thoughts and feelings come and then they wander off, as if I have given them too much cake and they need a nap.
I admit to giving these glorious flamingos free reign of my inner landscape; they hopscotch by me.
I do not try very hard to focus on them any longer than I would hold on to them if they were on fire.
Perhaps I do, just barely long enough to giggle at another ‘flamingo of thought’ as it dashes past.
There’s a busload of pink flamingos waving to me with a fistfuls of feathers!
They each represent my fleeting feelings and random thoughts as moments in time.
What I am trying to say is this:
As I take notice of these fabulous waltzing pink flamingos, I know of nowhere more safe and sacred that in our Wummin House to waltz with my own pink flamingos. It beats the hell out of waltzing with only myself.