March 8, 2015

POETRY BY BELINDA HUBERT "THE ZONE"

In addition to writing fiction and poetry, Belinda Hubert is currently working on a novel, titled Shrink Wrapped and a collection of short stories about life in the Midwest. She works as a clinical psychologist in a private practice in Lowell, Indiana. Belinda is a frequent contributor to Indiana Voice Journal.
http://buelasprairiepractice.blogspot.com/




The Zone

Along the fence line
beside the systematically groomed and fed,
GMO seeds practically jerked up out of the ground
with just a bit of water and sun


sits the unruly ditch
of weeds and brush,
trees scraggling in a line.
Straight as a row of corn on one side
the road on the other.


In there, whatever takes hold
thrives in messy tangles.


A forest, narrow as a pin,
teaming with life.
Weeds, briars, berries,
trees, mice, hawks,
pheasant, turkey.


Beside the striving, producing, orderly field
is the disorderly, never finished
always productive fence line
of woods that springs to being
from neglect.
In spite of human striving,


Some spots are full of orange day lilies in summer.
Screaming, defiant, vibrant orange
that nobody cultivated.

Only a few brave trees grow giant in the scraggle.
Looking enormous and terribly alone
beside the vast stretches
of uniform field and tidy road.


I love those ditch messes.
Those chopped and twisted trees
defiantly being there.
Despite cruel trims to protect tracks and power lines,
mean bites of tractor blades.
Never letting roots spread in the one direction.
That’s the sweet spot.
Between striving and being.
I really admire that zone.

~Belinda Hubert

1 comment:

  1. I enjoyed reading this poem. Thanks for this. R. Greiner

    ReplyDelete

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