Flame Trees

Come November

the flame trees

begin to wear their fire.

Over there a winking ember

peeps cautiously

from a green crown,

hinting at Christmas

and stirring nervous thoughts

of fire in green places,

while nearby, an extrovert,

naked through winter,

makes a spectacle of herself

in the full flare

of a brand new red dress.

How do I look?

she asks seductively,

and even the old Jacarandas

in their cool quenching blue

offer nothing but

compliments.

©  Kate O’Neil

• Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #3