The Glamour 

 

of Miami ends at the side streets—

where rectangle houses sit like bricks 

and window bars keep out the bad guys. 

Out near our curb stands an ancient oak.

A storm left it bent but not uprooted.

It moved with the wind but didn’t break.  

Back in the back, beside our garage,

the banana tree shades our rusted mustang

and fruit is blooming under the fronds.   

But proper palms stand along the highway. 

Woven trunks tower, their green flags waive

to welcome the tourists driving south.

The glamour of Miami is a nailed–in board 

that props up a palm against gravity.

Two lifetimes ago, Catherine (she/her) performed her poetry in Madrid. Now her main jobs are to write and hang out with her family. Her work has appeared in Pank, Deep Water Literary Journal, and The Grief Diaries. Her chapbook, Soul Full of Eye, is published through Kelsay Books.