tsarina

      Miriam Levine

      FLAMBOYANT TREE

        I put on the white trench coat of my freshman year and went into mist
        white as gypsophilia, baby’s breath. Mist kinked my hair,
        the Lion Gate of yellow brick licked with mist and the air stained purple.
        I went down the stairs to throw myself away--”Pooinciana” on the hi-fi--
        wonderful Jamal on piano--Vic in bed, hair shining like stone raised
        from the ocean, lips with the red of ancient statues before time wore away the color.
        I pulled down the sheet and saw everything I wanted.
        He never did me much good, but it doesn’t matter. Poinciana,
        royal flush, my ferny tree, you flame, every scarlet door open.