|street art, Richmond, VA|
Behind a chain link fence, grass overgrown,
in tufts, sign stencilled 'County Dump,'
She is sweat & earth, cracked nails,
tan & creased as leather, wild cropped
whip cream cloud hair & tough---
You can see it in her sky color eyes
& small smile when she pushes the button
to compact the trash---
She'd have to be, spending the day
in the putrid scent of others' refuse,
rising on mirage waves of heat
off oily puddles on the hard pack gravel---
i meet her, over by the recycle bins, after dropping
my white rubber bags in the dumpster,
save the boxes & bottles---
'hot one, isn't it?' she slips through her pearls
'yeah, tomorrow too, i hear.'
'just as well,' the rest of her words lost in
the scrape of metal as the great mouth closes
rending & remaking empty containers
into compact cubes
Wispy clouds breeze-dance over her sky eyes,
one on the left a bit bigger as her face crunches,
with upturned lips, willingly graced on each
of us regardless---
a bunny at the base of the pocked stop sign,
stray cat prowling, thin, mewling, tires crackle/pop
throw dust & in the rear view mirror she settles
in an old lawn chair out front her shack,
waiting on the next to pull through the open gate
of her chain link fence.
Over @ dVerse Poets today, Victoria has a wonderful challenge for us to really define a sense of place and focus on building that picture. She will open the doors at 3 pm EST. See you then.