SUBURBAN IDYL by POLLY CHASE

They are clearing ground to build a house
In the vacant lot next door
That I walk through every morning
Coming from the store --
In the tiny tangled wildwood with its thickets to explore,
And the talk
Of a poplar as I walk.

There is peace
In this still suburban street.
Trim and neat
We keep our modest gardens, and I know
That flowers will grow
In my newest neighbor's garden with a fragrance just as sweet;
With the wild grass trimmed and seeded,
Rolled and weeded,
And hollyhocks put primly in a row.

And at dusk,
When the air is sweet with phlox,
A tired-looking business man will go
To and fro,
Watering the eager roots of drooping summer flowers
While @3my@1 husband waters @3ours@1.
And children in the wet grass will be wiggling their toes,
Or leaping over fountains where the hose
Leaks and sputters,
Or pulling out the petals of a rose.

Yes, there will still be peace!
(But joy for me will cease --
No rambles where the prickly brambles crawl!)
A still, wind-sheltered peace
That lulls life to the echo of a call . . . .
Suburban life . . . .
Man and wife . . . .
And children's arms around us like a wall!

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