Poinciana Love
Come to Miami Avenue
When poincianas bloom
The air so tepid, torrid heat
Bakes out harsh northern gloom.
I came to you in blossom time
Hibiscus filled my den,
Sipped nectar from ixora stems
And fell in love again
It seems so near, like yesterday,
We laughed and had our fill
Of golden drinks with silver spoons,
Our tropical idyll.
That crumbling building where we drank
Till hazy tropic morns
Is but a piercing memory
Like bougainvillea thorns.
Martina was the building’s name
Now ghostly shell and soon
Its frangipani died with rust,
The lot a sandy dune.
I can’t remember when or why
We soared, crashed, like a dart
Nocturnal dates and silhouettes
Grew pale, then fell apart.
I could have blamed the citrus rot
Infecting veins and hearts;
That Florida disease all fear
Kills surely once it starts.
For I had tasted of your wine
Gold, orange, rich perfume
While jacarandas danced above
Yet whispered violet doom.
I often go where royal palms
And poincianas glow
They grace Miami Avenue
In seasons I don’t know.
I cannot go there in the day
It hurts too much, I pray,
But nightly in my shabby room
Ambrosia takes its sway.
So come and bless those flaming trees
too bright, they seem to scream,
Then softly whisper of our love
A rare, but fleeting dream.
