Monday, March 13, 2006


Suburban Spring
J.B. Rowell

Iris bulbs wait in a bag by the door.
Bathrooms clean, hands
smell like clean.

Roses bushes unfurl purple leaves
from point of swollen red buds
thanks to pruning mid-winter,

now March, spring will be here
officially next Tuesday, but how else
can you describe the weather

all weekend? Windows open, tufty
lawn mowed, clover and patches
of green pungency press to screen

with smell of gas. Brother and
sister busy themselves: hands
in dirt, add water, sell pies,

shake nest loose from tree
lone egg stomped, cup of life
torn back to twigs, it was old

she explains later, it had cobwebs
(feathers), the mommy left it
so it was okay, right?

Next time leave it, death
is to be left untouched. It's spring,
leave it in sphere of white blossoms
that soften winter bones.


Blogger Anna Greene said...

Lovely ... I like the way you mixed spring, new life and death.

9:05 PM, March 13, 2006  
Blogger Michelle e o said...

I loved this too. I thought maybe you could leave the (feathers) out or replace cobwebs with feathers. Other than that though, this is great JB. Loved the smells and sights.

10:08 PM, March 13, 2006  
Blogger J.B. Rowell said...

Thanks Anna and Michelle - this was just written yesterday. I have NO distance/perspective on it - so any all all suggestions are welcome!

10:39 PM, March 13, 2006  
Blogger Chaotic Mom said...

I've seen a lot of poetry on other blogs, but this was just BEAUTIFUL. Your poem really took my senses for a ride this morning.

Yearning for more spring days around here now, too!

I'm printin out your poem, with the full reference so's I don't forget who wrote it. It's going right up next to my computer to help keep me motivated. The Cabin Fever has sure hit hard here. ;)

8:23 AM, March 18, 2006  
Blogger J.B. Rowell said...

Thanks Momma M! What an honor - I enjoyed yoru blog too.

5:00 PM, March 18, 2006  

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