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Poem: Washington Quail Bell(e)
Washington Quail Bell(e)
Words: Benjamin Nardolilli
Image: Neely Johnson
Editor's Note: This poem was originally written in response to the image on the cover of The Washington Post's Fall 2014 Arts Preview print supplement. This image is not available online.
In a Congo of rain, she walks, firm and pink-faced
Through a district which wants to claim her
As a work of art, a source for the cool,
The next designation the capital wants to adorn itself.
She resists by not refusing to pose or declining
To color in the blue and gray spaces
Of this city locked in a civil war of peace,
Where struggle is strangled before every election.
If another takes her picture, she gives it no mind,
Her yellow tights and orange skirt remain.
No camera can take their color away,
Nor the pattern of snowflakes on her denim jacket.
Her main controversy? The puddles in the potholes,
They will wash away the petals on her shoes,
Observers with their observations will come and go,
And if one writes a poem about her, she will never know.
#Unreal #Poetry #BenjaminNardolilli #NeelyJohnson #Individual #Photography #History #WashingtonDC #WaPo
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