Bougainvillea City Impressions, 1958 and Now - Sara Dowse Day 7

          

Bougainvillea ...

bloom of the Pacific

enveloping, all around

Red as a dancer’s lips

purple as a dowager’s

Then
I saw only the red of the houses,

the roofs

and prim purple balls

of hydrangea,

the suburban flower

How it intrigued me

the colours they turned

depending on the soil

depending on what they put

in the water

Nor did I see much of the water

though it was there

all around

crossing the street I could see it

a calm iridescence beckoning

though I didn’t dare

Magnolia, frangipani

intoxicating jasmine

Purple-belled jacarandas

the blue of clamshells, periwinkles,

scattered and bruised to an

orange-brown.

The sea surrounding

clumps of green on the shores

red bricks rendered mud-grey,

teal-trimmed.

And freeways to daunt one,

giddy escalators, heels hovering,

caught in the old days

between the slats.

Could trip you up, that,

and did, and now

I am back,

a stranger again.