new poem : hibiscus

hibiscus


mama rented a hibiscus covering the high, narrow windows
of one half of a duplex in central Florida
in order to move away from the husband

this with the help of a man who worked the radio
for airplanes full with contraband making their way
across Central America

the quick schedule I learned
bus school bus home work home
wasn’t enough
good thing for me that plant gave a new flower every day
and closed its ripened petals each evening

I walked away from that time with little
save the neighbor who wondered what I’d done with my horse
since I was from Texas, or the reports of an alligator loose
just two blocks from the duplex,
or color coordinating girl wallets at the kmart.

There was that night, pine in the air
sky low with the remnants of a hurricane
when my brother and I sat in the back seat
so far from my mother’s lap
as she and her boyfriend talked about moving
to Puerto Rico.

Home was more closed flowers than cool drives

hibiscus a shy Buddha
no way those petals will open