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Afternoon at the Blue Hangar
I.
Scent of
gardenia
And oh, and oh
brimming
garden:
Mexican hat,
lobelia, bachelor buttons
And oh
delicious heat
rutilanting my
skin
like your tomatoes
sweet cat camouflaged
by grasses
hot smell of
life, ripening the mint
deepening the
purple
of eggplant, beet
II.
Is it ash or
elm?
The helicopters will tell
Spokes
coptering,
We whir and
woosh
You wonder what flag to fly:
“Biking is
fun!” or “You can do it too!”
At Airport &
Springdale,
three honks & a wave
three lady
bikers, a fantasy of legs
hinging in
unison
our collective
loveliness
fueling the
helium
sunshine!
III.
Your bell trilling our arrival
at the Blue
Hangar,
messy
flowerbeds of clothes
we
till with our hands
turning over
the color
to yield:
green shorts,
linen tunic, pink dress!
A
skirt like grandma’s wallpaper
a forest of
abandoned trophies
we should buy
them to celebrate
the triumph of our day
We
win! We live!
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