TWIN RIVERS

As if our dreams are ours
to steer

once split
twin rivers rush on
and on

apart
reacting to terrain
with own refrain

bending banks of shore
in memory
of elliptical strain

carving in pursuit of collective pool
in full glare of day

no place to hide
no time to reflect
by faith the river knows

where stars come to rest

~j.b. rowell

HI SQUIRREL

In the Redwood grove
behind the school,
where my two oldest settle in,
I teach my youngest how to say hi
to the squirrels
to help him not be afraid.

I think about how
almost 20 years ago
I was caught talking to a squirrel
on my way down the dorm steps
"Hi squirrel!"
I said cheerily,
and looked up to see
you walking toward.

I was sure you would laugh
or think I am a loon
or both
but you smiled,

like he smiles
as he takes coins from my pocket
and puts them in his own
and runs off.


~j.b. rowell

JUST KEEP SWEEPING, JUST KEEP SWEEPING, SWEEPING, SWEEPING

I stare into the window
of the empty house next door

notice a door open
that wasn't open before

or maybe it's a new angle of
sunlight finding the way

spiders claim sills beneath
our own windows reflected

we keep sweeping webs away
while that other house

slowly becomes encased in a feast
of emptiness


~j.b. rowell