Imagine the impossible

Imagine the impossible

Write a poem where the impossible happens - the sun rises in the west,  a circle has corners,  stars change their constellations.

Softly at first,  then growing gradually louder,
A grunting swishing sound floats over the tree line.
Two large pink wingtips appear,
Beat together,  swoop in a downward arc,
Then beat together again,
Straining with each beat to defeat the force of gravity.
A pig, a big pink pig!
Forcing itself up and over the trees,
It circles the field below the woods,
Growing in confidence with each new wing beat.
Then over the trees fly two more porkers
Round and round the trio circle
Like porcine buzzards gaining height on thermals
Then off they fly into the setting sun,
Smaller and smaller,  dots,  then are gone.

People gaze in wonder,  open mouthed, struck dumb
Then buzzing with excited speculation - whatever next?
Did Corbyn win the election?
Have men begun doing housework?
Will my poems finally be published?
If pigs can fly,  anything can happen.



© Copyright 2018. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved




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