Snow has turned all the lower limbs into wide white feathers, but treetops are bare against the blue. From somewhere in between, the hawk.
3 Comments
Comments are closed.
Previous Post: Previous Post
Next Post: Next Post
Snow has turned all the lower limbs into wide white feathers, but treetops are bare against the blue. From somewhere in between, the hawk.
Comments are closed.
Permalink
Petition for Something other than White
Someone has clothed the trees in old white
feathered house coats. They stand in a line
against the bluff, waiting for the cantina
to open. They’re not very happy with
the costume; and someone could turn up
the heat, you know. It’s almost noon: they
want something more than that blue backdrop
the color of hard gum. Someone could crank
some mojo into red dixie cups– say, shots
of tequila and lime to the swell of a throaty
serenade. And at each cafe table, dark-haired
gitanos in heeled zapatos de flamenco, dark-
haired women looking like they’re always ready
to toss their hair back, flash their eyes, clench
their teeth around a long-stemmed rose.
~ Luisa A. Igloria
03 07 2011
Permalink
Permalink
And in its leaving: pin feathers, leftover confetti valentine hearts, a seed or two. Jetsam on the move with places to go, drains to plummet like pathways to heaven.