"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2016 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw.


Polly Alice

Monday, May 9, 2016

Honeysuckle City

Green is rising
in the woods
behind our house
just leaves
of nothing in 
particular
--- when the 
season grows
plump with rain 
the honeysuckle 
blooms...

It's a honeysuckle
forest--trees made of it
everywhere popcorn
explosions of sweet
yellow flowers
with tiny tails.

On Valentine
street, the sun
begins to gilt
the pavement
outside the dollar
store. Two runners!
One with a little 
black dog.
People wait for
the bus.

A man in drag crosses at 
the light to
take his shift
at Hamburger Mary's
he doesn't have on
his make-up yet.
He carries a canvas
back pack like
any young man
quickly on his way 
to work.

Clouds scurry
behind the
french- Vietnamese
cafe. Tired
black grandmothers
carry heavy
coats and hold too
tightly the hands of
small children. 

Black grandfathers
wear hats and let
the children run
loose. They 
look everyone 
in the eyes greet
everyone
commanding respect.

All the other people
no matter their color
walk quickly past
without looking up.
Except the homeless
man who sunbathes 
in the parking lot
exhausted--unable to 
move. Always
speaking, but
no one understands him.

And the city 
blooms like a honeysuckle
explosion.
Open windows.
The mechanic
grinding away at 
engines or hubcaps.

The wheel rotates
and I know that life
is sweet. And there
are more kinds of 
love out there than
colors of honeysuckle.

Sweet nectar
is in the air. 
And the sun
is yellow. I walk
up to the studio.
Open the window
to the sounds of horns.
The crows on the roof
flutter away--
and I think about
how much has
changed as
I ready my
my brush.



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