[Once in a mythic lifetime]
Once in a mythic lifetime
the phoenix mounts his pyre, destroys,
becomes himself again—pure and dangerous.
Overnight a pasture—
two gravid mares, roan mule with strawberry bangs—
became a grid of houses,
each with a mop on the unpainted deck.
In a week a strip of what-was-once—
a quick mart, old motels, hablamos car lots—
became a glassy mall, offerings just ahead of the season,
clearance a step behind.
A generation of smoke and sauce,
the pit shack grew a room with tables,
chairs, and paper towels; a potted philodendron;
two spider plants from which anyone can take pups.
A little thought, some breath—
the glassblower shapes a flower
carelessness will turn to sand.
In real, slow time, a woman
grew from the body of a girl.
Barring the unforeseen
she’ll be here for a while.