Waiting for the Big Blue Bus on Grand and Ninth by Martina Reisz Newberry

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Courtesy of Mural Conservancy of Los Angeles

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Waiting for the Big Blue Bus on Grand and Ninth
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Fall’s leer dissolves into winter’s grimace and
soon will come my spring, my sweet, favorite child.
Los Angeles’ sidewalks and freeways gallop
impatiently down to the ocean to catch
the first redolence of meaning hidden there.
New bright Virgins of Guadalupe show up
on outside walls of liquor stores, mercados.
Other walls on other places are sanded
and whitewashed to be new canvas for gang signs and
huge, black anime eyes.  There is no such thing
as solitary in March as it lunges,
parries with the sun until speed—then tempo—
patinados usher in lemon-lit air
and long days. I am not sad in spring. I am
commonplace and nothing more than the keeper
of myself, the mother who always loves her
cheeky, consequential spring-child best of all.
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sunbleached
Martina Reisz Newberry is a poet and writer. She is the author of Never Completely Awake from Deerbrook Editions in addition to Where it GoesLearning by RoteNot Untrue and Not UnkindRunning Like a Woman With Her Hair On Fire, An Apparent Approachable Light and Memoirs of the Open Hearth—a memoir of my father. She can be found at: http://www.martinanewberry.com/
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