Artist Awash in Reds
 
Each sculpted nail
a siren tone.
Each solemn lip
a well of fine chianti.
Salmon, cedar,
starfish tints hued
in each ringed finger.
Festooning her black
braids a thick artery
of ribbon: ruby, ember,
rose.  On it goes;
a dusting of cardinal
in each cheekbone.
A throat scarfed
in a sunset of crimson.
Glass orbs, fiery in
her pierced lobes.
Thin bracelets
of molten lava tinker
the wrists.  Shades
of pithehayas and
pomegranate engulf
the flared skirt, petticoats,
blouse.  The scent
of watermelon, chili peppers,
sun, burnishing the air
whenever she goes.
 

Copyright 1998, Liz Walsh-Boyd
 

Liz Walsh-Boyd, a social service worker and volunteer coordinator for Richard Hugo House, has published in Arnazella, Bellowing Ark, The Panhandler, Waterways, and Switched-on Gutenberg.  She studies poetry at the University of Washington Extension Program and started Frida-mania for us.

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