Flowers For Sale
Arco
275 265 255
Chevron
285 275 265
The limping vagabond
Tends his white buckets sprouting colors
Under the Chevron totem pole
Flowers for sale
With one bouquet he
Hobbles to the curb edge,
Straight up waits
To ask
"For your sweetheart?..."
DolphinWords
Notes: I might change this one when I find out just what the flower sellers do say...usually I'm under the overpass, noisy and shaded, and pass on buying some, window rolled up, when they walk along the cue of cars waiting on the Trask traffic light...I don't know what arrangement, if any, they have with the Chevron Station, but thereabout at the intersection has become an established corner for them...Flower vagabond is the same vagabond as in yesterday's poem, but I see he's not African American, maybe...too far away...bit odd to write about real scenes and people who are unaware of the attention!...bit odd too to include commercial names, Arco, Chevron, and such...writing poems about Harbor Bl may require that, I'm thinking now...but it's a break with my 'out of time, out of place' rule!...hmmph...curio is that last night I'd thought, thinking of what subjects are along the Bl, to consider the flower sellers, and today at Denny's, there he was on the other side of the Bl...Bl is the abbreviation the street signs use for Boulevard, which is way too long a word to work into poems!...selling flowers makes his vagabond status questionable...in Town, street side selling is outlawed, but the enforcement seems to have relaxed...garage sales are happening every week at the same locations, vendor carts here and there, now and then a vendor comes through the laundry mat with strawberries or cherries...I've thought to set up with my paints and easel at the beach, and if someone asks to buy, wth, 'sure, here, let me show you what I have..."...brb...need to check something from yesterday...google search: cocoon above below person of interest
:)
DavidDavid
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