Sunday, December 31, 2006


I don't know where these poems are coming from, but at least they are coming.

I have a definite issue with weeds, apparently, which I will explore later.

I think this poem is in response to the bizarre, quiet nature of New Year's Eve. I walked around the lake and neighborhood this morning, and it feels abandoned with everyone out-of-town or "tucked in." A disclaimer: my kids are not watching TV all day, don't worry, we are playing outside thanks to global warming . . .

Santa brought Razor scooters - zoom!

Tucked In

j.b. rowell

Used mini-vans supine
before quiet houses clad
in siding. Weeds
can never be gone,
peek between brick
and pavement.

The secret is to know
that everyone else
has weeds too. Even
mailbox flags that swing
free: never upright
or tucked at the sides
of plastic bellies.

We are all in hiding.
Children before TVs,
parents, "resting their eyes."
It's okay, rest,
the new year will bring
open doors, and a sharing
of life's similarities
and dull tragedies.


Blogger Pat Paulk said...

Weeds are a constant battle. And, we all have em. For my part I'm glad they're coming!!

5:58 PM, January 01, 2007  
Blogger J.B. Rowell said...

Hi Pat - I have a love/hate relationship with weeds. :)

10:59 PM, January 03, 2007  
Blogger Jake said...

Happy (late) new year!

7:22 PM, January 11, 2007  
Blogger J.B. Rowell said...

Happy late new year to you - Jake!

6:51 PM, January 12, 2007  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home