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Bombing Biba by Casimir Greenfield

The acrid carbide fumes burned his eyes in the crisp air above the London streets.

Flamingos screeched in monochrome: splashing blindly in the roof pools behind him, their cries melting into a melange of The Ritz and The Continental.

Dawn caught him seven floors up and drifted dreamlike around him.

No one was watching.

Haunting. "No one was watching." The birds startled me. Then I read about the Biba store and learned that there was a roof garden on top of the building so perhaps the flamingos are actually literal. And they are oblivious to all but their splashing. Not even the birds are watching.

...this happened. I was on the roof garden when the mayhem began. This is now the opening lines of book two of a young adult series I'm writing.

It's hard for a very short poem to convey a lot of emotion. However, it seems you did it well. I really enjoyed this!

I love that it is short yet captures a lot happening in it. Well done!