Gigantic Day
by Michelle BoisseauWe are bemoaning how the rising
deluxe condos will bully the river
when jittering toward us come irises
rocked in a beaming woman’s arms.
Then all along Millbank they come
hugging froths and sprays from the selloff,
blue dithers and nodding nasturtiums,
foxgloves jiggling their freckled bells,
from shopping bag and trolley dangle
panting fuchsias and apricot roses,
a Japanese maple whirls in a tango
through the taxis on Chelsea Bridge Road
and a warble of calla lilies opens up
to hit the high note that rumbles through us
as we all stream toward the tube stop,
past the humming double-decker bus
where every lap is plumped with bounty
and down we go following a crush
of petals onto the underground
platforms brimming for the rush.
Michelle Boisseau is a Professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. Her books of poetry include: No Private Life (Vanderbilt, 1990), Understory (Northeastern University, 1996), Trembling Air (Arkansas, 2003), A Sunday in God-Years (Arkansas, 2009) and the forthcoming Among the Gorgons. Her work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, The Gettysburg Review, The Yale Review and Ploughshares. In 2010 she received an NEA Fellowship in Poetry and in 2015 was awarded the Tampa Prize.
