Nov 17 09: Neighbors
November 17, 2009 § 8 Comments
Today’s Poetic Asides two for one prompt was to write about implosions or explosions or both. (A sweet example of the “two themes in one” is here.) An image came – puffs of air coming out of front doors – the exhalation of family drama. (Hmm. Now that I write it, I’m taken with it all over again.) But the poem took off in a different direction, so here’s one not about the prompt. (I’m not pleased with this, but I’m still hitting the wall. )
Yesterday two thin young men with shouts and laughs
pushed a vintage motorbike into my neighbor’s garage.
She is tall and blond. Their wiry strangeness
combined with her confuses me.
And an elderly couple in the next block has moved on.
I bought remnants of their history from their yard –
an army trunk, green mittens and an old cassette.
Now babies are two doors down, and toddlers
with motorized cars and rangy teens with skateboards.
My lawn is the flytrap, capturing candy wrappers,
cigarette butts, and damaged toys.
One car sits on the right side of my drive,
away from the droppings of the mockingbird.
I leave room for my daughter and an occasional beau.
I wonder if the neighbors watch me as I watch them,
seeing the comings and goings, the breathing of the neighborhood.