John Rouleau

Poetry

 

Redemption

 

You have to know me 

to like me.

 

You'll recognize me

by the foot

in my mouth.

 

I'm best with a pencil,

a brush,

a fly rod,

or hiking staff

in my hands,

 

face toward the sun,

 

cool blue pines

 

or cloudy horizon

to silhouette

 

my form.

 

I try not to offend

but my tongue is sharp,

 

shocked to be disturbed

from an ever inward focus.

 

You'll find my mouth in Third

before my brain is

out of Park.

 

The authorities know me.

 

I'm the king

of detention, in need

of redemption.

 

 

 

Remind Me

 

Dear sister

in your alcoholic stupor

you drift into the fetid past

we shared as children.

 

When i call

please 

don't bring me back

 

there.

 

Remind me of the river

the change of seasons

the great migrations above us

we watched when so small 

and innocent

and pure.

 

Remind me of crabapple trees

and plum

running from yard-to-yard

from dawn till dusk

with the neighbor kids

 

a long string of family dogs

and again

 

the river.

 

"Remind Me" was first published in Woodie Guthrie Centennial Anthology of Poetry, entitled "Elegant Rage."

 

 

 

Silence

 

Some weeks ago

I misplaced my watch 

made of stainless steel,

and searched frantically

for it in free time 

 

for about a week.

 

In an all too infrequent moment 

of clarity I surrendered

my attachment to the

prized timepiece, believing,

 

in due time,

 

we would be reunited.

 

Sure enough, working 

in my study this morning -

 

it found me

 

as I stood

in silence and thought

beside the bookshelf. 

 

"Tick tick tick,"

 

it whispered to me

 

just above

the silence.

 

 

 

Drought #144

 

I bet it's not just me 

wishing summer away 

to see if winter answers 

our drought 

prayers with a deluge.

 

 

 

Mourning Dove

 

Why so sad, 

mourning dove,

perched upon

the high wire?

 

You move me

with your threnody,

a song

of lamentation. 

 

Is it the

lack of rain

which causes

so much pain

and fire?

 

Mankind's

other

careless

 

devastations?

 

 

 

John Vincent Rouleau was raised on the banks of the great Saint Croix River which borders Minnesota and Wisconsin for some distance. He currently resides in the San Francisco Bay Area. By day, he is a Silicon Valley high-tech executive. Mr. Rouleau is also an artist; he writes and paints as time allows. He can be reached at Rouleau.john@gmail.com