Some Gamine

Who only wears
shades of red
(with black). I could never be

her—the way I give it
away with my eyes. You’ll know
my heart by how

I hold my mouth. All the black
(and red into pink)
won’t shield me

from exposing
the truth on the street.

Air-Bridged Harbor*

“Whose flame/Is the imprisoned lightning.”
—Emma Lazarus, from “The New Colossus”

In a slow return to daylight after hours, she winks
at March and flirts

with her own promises to wake up
a tiny piece

of dirt. Hers is an impassioned lightning
that could strike

even now—before spring.

* also from Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus.”