by Alessandra Simmons
For Don Belton
Sometimes I am mistaken
& I believe the streetlamp
is sunrise. Orange glow breaking
palm fronds. The Midnight
Hydrangea might be called
the Jazz Plant. If I stand
with my feet pressed
low into the soil,
sweat & perfume will climb
& cloudbouquets sing:
Your voice branching
through velvet coral.
Alessandra Simmons has poems published (or forthcoming) in The Other Journal, WomenArts Quarterly, St. Peter’s B-list: Contemporary Poems Inspired by the Saints, and others. She lives and writes in Chicago and interviews working writers on her blog: alessandrasimmons.com.
Hawaii Pacific Review 