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Phyllis Wax


Eva, my downstairs neighbor,
with her Tuesday fuchsia hair
and her Friday hair chartreuse,
elusive as quicksilver spilled
and rolling, a hundred tiny orbs in all directions,
dashed from the house in her tiger-striped slip
dress, the one I’d have stolen, given the chance.
She was going to miss her bus—again.

Next door, the snake in the shrubbery
raised his head and sniffed her perfume.
He lowered the hood on his classic red Corvette,
wiped a mote of dust from that shiny apple
and slunk on over to offer her a bite.


This poem first appeared in Free Verse (October 2004, Issue #77).
Used here with the author’s permission.







Phyllis Wax writes from a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. Her poetry has appeared in many journals and anthologies, both print and online. 
Recently returned from an extended trip to Viet Nam, she finds that travel feeds her muse.

Post New Comment:
Linda Lee (Konichek):
Whenever I see "Phyllis Wax" on a poem, I look forward to a stimulation of my senses and mind; I am never disappointed. Each word is important and crafted-love this poem and attitude!
Posted 11/10/2010 09:53 AM
I love the use of color--hair colors,the tiger-striped slip dress, and the red apple Corvette. Very nice.
Posted 11/10/2010 08:52 AM
love it, phyllis! sweet. a corvette as a shiny red apple....nice.
Posted 11/10/2010 07:06 AM

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