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Love is a Blue Car, a Foot, a Flower
Love came around the block,
a small blue car,
V-4 engine turning smoothly,
each black rubber belt
revolving new,
pistons pumping,
drove up to me,
then off,
up, off,
then accidentally over my
foot.
Love is a foot,
a fine foot
with all five toes wiggling,
good in summer
shoeless or sandled,
orange autumn leafy foot,
a winter foot with thick tread,
an all season foot,
necessary foot, spring foot,
a flower.
Love is a flower
(but not a red, red rose)
its an unfurling perianth
atop the petiolus,
a poppy's brown nipple
beneath bee's lips,
lots of scent and sneeze,
the pith of it,
inscrutable stems, mutable
root.
* This poem first appeared in FEED, issue #1
Pamela Hughes
Pamela Hughes’ poetry has appeared in: The Brooklyn Review; Timber Creek Review; The Minnesota Review; Green Fuse; Riverrun; The Paterson Literary Review; Downtown; Without Halos; Common Ground; Ellipsis; Four Quarters; The West Wind Review; Nexus; (FEED.)(NYC); Defined Providence; Eidos, Impetus and elsewhere. One of her poems is forthcoming in Thema. Pamela has an MFA in Creative Writing from Brooklyn College and teaches creative writing at Bloomfield College in New Jersey. After lots of procrastination and two newborns having transformed themselves into toddler and kid, poetry has taken hold again.
