Flor de Mayo
Three yellow blossoms, multiform and perky
survey us from atop the flor de mayo tree,
challenging November after thin and wrinkled leaves
died without a final murmur, leaving speckled branches sharp.
Here, no-one knows the name frangipani, nor
islands named Hawaii. Nor plumeria, formal Latin.
But yes we know the use of leis, adorning every politician.
Few know from where their frangipani came nor how
it traveled, swept along by dark-skinned porters,
fruit of every color, babies born in moving canoes.
Flor de Mayo the women repeat: flower of May.
2010 - present
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