Along the Expressway

Tulip Dance sm

Red           and                 gold
and          cadmium        yellow
bright line of swaying tulip-shapes
in primary hues, set off with green,
nodding placidly along the expressway
between the gray grass and grayer sky,
caught my eye in the morning’s traffic
maneuvering out of a long, blind curve
between crumbling brick factories and
aging shops grey with winter debris,
breaking the wet rhythm of March
with a sudden flash of color,
reminding motorists
in their
sullen
a.m.
rush
to
work
that
spr-
ing
is
not
amen-
able
to
the
haste
or
impat-
ience
of workers on their way to artificially lit offices
or to the dejection of routine assembly lines under gray roofs.
They were, by the way, not tulips at all, but rather
A row of bedraggled plastic flags announcing a swimming pool company.

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