MORE FROM THE 'BURBS

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.