A Lily for Sara

Sara undresses by late moonlight,
paints a fluorescent-blue peace lily
on her belly, day-glo blue on her nails,
dances at her apartment window.

Cars slow to a crawl.
Passersby gawk.
One grey-bearded man yells 
he’s having a flashback,
tries to climb the smooth brick façade.

Sara’s too young to have been a hippie,
but she’s convinced her heart
is stitched from tie dyes 
and faded blue bell bottoms.
She can’t put flowers in gun barrels
so makes this statement instead.

Moody Blues, ELO, Fleetwood Mac—
they all make her lily sway harder.
The crowds thicken.
She makes the late night news,
flashes of nipple discretely edited out.

Novelty over, the street becomes quiet.
Sara finally sleeps, blue blending 
into the early morning light.





Pris Campbell
©2011

Published in Blue Line Review, 'blue' edition , 2011

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