A Tropical Gift
(For Huberta)
- Martha Morseth
When my new hibiscus blooms
I feel warm and lazy under its coral suns
brightening (as the Bible song goes)
the corner where we are,
far from the equator.
At the end of every blooming
each four-petal flower curls into itself,
twines around the other three,
forming a still-bright, delicate fist,
a tidy, almost weightless package.
Such diffidence;
such consideration.
At evening when the hibiscus
whispers Hawaiian sunsets,
I slow my steps in tropical languor,
grateful the plant was born so exquisite,
became so clever.
• Martha Morseth is a Dunedin poet who is working on her second collection.
