The Fair One

The Fair One

(Translated loosely from the scent of Dolce Gabbbana perfume.)


Catch her running
in the London rain
as umbrella and raincoat
loan her the white bloom
of a tulip marking
this sky,
this place,
this moment
with ingénue charm.


Polished blonde,
she appears this way
rushing headlong
into life, excused
for her lateness, her tantrums
stemming from tiny buds
of inconvenience.

Don’t ask why.
She just is
lovely and slim,
diminutive
against gaudy dreams
and this massive garden
of green
leaves and envy
lining streets that lead
to her studio ---

where she sings
and judges other performers;
their looks weighing
far less than perfect
on the platinum scales
of screen or stage.

So catch her running
in the London rain,
salt her hemline and see
if the songbird still flies
and holds the crowd
spellbound, her shadow crossing
over their wingless feet.