Amaryllis and Strangers on a Train

Amaryllis

My amaryllis grew three feet

toward window and ceiling, blooming

with a quatrain of pink trumpets

under a fluorescent light bulb

on my kitchen table

an overhead shot revealing a merry go round

of greens and pinks from barely there to fuchsia

a carousel from the “June is bursting out all over” musical

or Strangers on a Train

its mad racing horses

a circling pony cart ride where I

caught my foot and spun around

hanging on reins like stems on a flower bulb

a bell lit up like a chandelier

propped up with plastic spatulas

and wooden spoons

it slid to one side

leaving a clean surface

so ordinary as to go unnoticed

and fell flaccidly on the hidden chair

beside the door.