Yellow Trumpet Flowers
This morning I slipped into a yellow dress
that smelled of distant things,
and began thinking of yellow flowers바카라”roses that grew
in the neighbor바카라™s yard every spring;
sunflowers that bloomed
along the rail tracks;
canna lilies that a friend brought
me for my birthday once;
marigolds that refused to take root in my garden;
buttercups that grew in clusters along a
Punjabi farmer바카라™s walnut orchard in Santa Clara Valley;
chrysanthemums that gushed forth from a Chinese poem to drench my heart.
Those were all fine yellow flowers,
but the most unforgettable were the trumpet flowers that grew
by the last Mission that the Spaniards built in Sonoma,
along the Great California Road바카라”their bright yellow petals testament to
raised flags and fallen lives.
California, you are triumphant and tragic, your stories many and beautiful
like those outrageous yellow trumpet flowers.
Yellow Birds on Magnolia
Yellow birds swing on the magnolia
I바카라™m not sure if they바카라™re goldfinches or warblers
I ask the guys if they know what those birds are called
They say neither do they know, and nor do they care
I think of the birds in the old country바카라”
Bulbuls, sparrows and robins in grandma바카라™s mango tree
Those birds were melodious but
Yellow birds don바카라™t bother with songs
They are achingly beautiful though
Like frisky dreams
I hope aloud that they will always frolic on the magnolia
The guys wonder what really is the deal about
yellow birds and the magnolia
I tell myself the deal is really,
truly big. My immigrant mind seeks permanence
For birds and trees to hitch together
I decide that I바카라™ll knit the birds and the magnolia into a poem,
Make their bond eternal.
Simrita Dhir lectures at the University of California, San Diego, and is the author of acclaimed novels The Rainbow Acres바카라™ and 바카라˜The Song of Distant Bulbuls.
