I did it my way.
( from the Frank Sinatra song)
(Poem by Wendy Howe )
Beyond a boulevard of banks and metro clocks,
a sidewalk of shops and filigreed lamps,
I dissolve time in an ocean view
where a broom of palm leaves.
sweeps the salt and heat.
A bird stands on the balcony,
his left foot testing the air, his right
touching iron. I smile
and look at my own feet.
Red toe nails match the sun
and hibiscus perspiring a sweet odor
in the courtyard garden.
A girl or woman
has left her sandal near the ferns.
Its thin strap torn, breaking ties
with the foot that wore it, with footsteps
going back or heading toward
some new ambition. A film star
or fashion model, perhaps.
I was asked to design clothing
for The House of Dior, umbrella my art
with His name. But like the seagull
I balanced myself on the edge.
One leg guarded, the other prone to lift
on the loose winds defying
that glamorous pull of the moon, daring
to strike my heel against the sun.
To know more about this poem, about Wendy Howe
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