Two Poems
Jacqueline Jules


Island People
Only brave souls
build houses
on barrier islands.
That explains the 
pig-colored paint
on a structure
storm winds could huff down
like the big bad wolf.
It reminds me of a bride
who plans an outdoor wedding,
certain her prayers
will cancel all rain. 

Island people
must sprout from the sand
like beach grass,
toes pointed downward,
nails growing deeper and deeper.
How does one grow thick and strong
amid shifting sands and high winds?
If I stand here long enough,
bare toes sunk in the sand,
will I break apart
like the shattered sea creatures
littering the shore?
Or will I learn to collect grit
and stabilize my anxious coast
before it’s swept away?



Selling That House

I sold that house, she says from the stage.
That house where my husband left me
for a man;
where I hugged booze and pills
while the baby cried.

Bought a new one, she says,
her voice reaching out
to poke each shoulder.
We sit in rapt rows,
butts shifting in our seats,
remembering the houses
we failed to sell,
places where our egos
lay bloody on the kitchen floor,
murder victims outlined in chalk.
Her story from the stage
is yellow caution tape
across the door.   
                                                                   
Don't go back! She warns.
Not even for one last peek inside.
Put on shorts and sneakers
and run past,
carrying only a spoon
to mix the batter of your new life
in a kitchen far removed
from where you cook today.

 

About the author:
Jacqueline Jules is the author of the poetry chapbook, Field Trip to the Museum, published by Finishing Line Press. Her poetry has appeared in numerous publications including Soundings Review, Christian Science Monitor, Imitation Fruit, Calyx, Connecticut River Review, and Pirene's Fountain. She is also the author of two dozen books for young readers including the Zapato Power series, No English, Sarah Laughs, and Never Say a Mean Word Again. Visit her online here.