PLUMERIA ACUTIFOLIA Poem by Tua Birgitta Forsström

I walked in a city glittering
from exchange rates and low motels
Huge halls with slot machines
As if no one really lived there

Until, on a street corner among the car rental offices
Stood the tree as a cloud of scent and rain
Stood the tree as a cloud of scent and white flowers
That rained on me, sweet-scented and fell

It was a lukewarm and passing tropical downpour
The white flowers and the rain rained on me
I'm standing in soaked clothes and am old
And fragrance and rain surround the tree like a cloud

And there was no airline ticket to the northern hemisphere
I wanted nothing and wished for nothing more
And there was no deceit and no slaughterhouses
Only Plumeria acutifolia, in rain