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Juliet Waldron

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Route 39
by Juliet Waldron

Monday, October 19, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Juliet Waldron
•  Blockage
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           >> View all 106

A mere twenty years can make a lot of changes, this one imho not for the better.


Early morning
Biking north
Only sounds birds
Occasional chain to gear
Click, panting uphill
Human power.

Fog, lifting soon,
A hazy golden ball seen
Through a silver shroud.
Deer drift, a hazel herd
Does conducting fawns
Across the road
Don't give us a
Second glance.

Not a car in sight,
Only bikes, deer, hill,
Crowned with
September's corn.

~~~~~~

Five stoplights now,
Internal combustion
Stink and noise,
Asphalt & chain stores, streets
Named for absent natives,
“Meadowlark,” "Doe Lane"
& “Goldfinch” Drive.
Townhouses cluster,
Grim gray sides,
Modern shanties
With vacant pool
& tennis court,
Nothing real.





 

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Reviewed by Patricia Martin 11/2/2009
Ah, yes. Wonderful Pennsylvania. If it's green, either pave it or build on it or both. Usually both. Only to stand empty, black windows gazing out at ... nothing.

You GO, girl.
Zilla
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 10/30/2009
As an avid cyclist, your verses are close to my heart, Juliet. Well done! Love and best wishes,

Regis
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 10/28/2009





As I ride along with you, Juliet, through these
painful and carefully crafted lines, I am reminded again
that all too often our "realities" survive in recollection.
I am reminded too to John Cheever's brilliant short story,
The Swimmer. -gene





Reviewed by D Johnson 10/20/2009
All in the name of progress, or so they say.

Cheers,
Dan
Reviewed by Felix Perry 10/20/2009
Thanks for the tour, lovely capture of both the good and the bad...
fee
Reviewed by Lori Moore 10/19/2009
Wonderful poetry... but sad. Enjoyed.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 10/19/2009
POW - right between the eyes with truth, Juliet. Well done. Sad, isn't it?

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by miles waldron (Reader) 10/19/2009
Remember that movie "Breaking Away?"
Reviewed by John Flanagan 10/19/2009
Juliet,

Not a car in sight,
Only bikes, deer, hill,
Crowned with
September's corn.


...one of the great images I've had the pleasure to see today;

the second part of the poem tells of grim changes, loss of habitat, loss of the natural, loss of life itself.

A very fine poem indeed. Thank you!

John




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