<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Parking Lot<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n There\u2019s a beauty out here that you newcomers can too easily miss<\/p>\n in the midst of\u00a0 that hustle and hurry the world supposes of you.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There\u2019s a garden here, a garden full of contemporary temporary<\/p>\n delights, delights for the senses \u2013 the touch and taste of our times.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n See the rows fill in \u2013 color and shape, make and model arranged<\/p>\n And rearranged at the gardeners\u2019 whim, plotted and planted for now.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n This is as mapped and pre-measured as any Tudor cottage garden,<\/p>\n but on a scale that only the most robust city planner could fathom.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n These are our willful flowers, the gardens we\u2019ve made for our world,<\/p>\n the bulbs and the beds, the last of our edens and our gethsemanes.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Out here we still hunt and gather, we careen and watch so carefully,<\/p>\n exercise the full range of emotions \u2013 from hope, to despair, to ecstasy.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Out here we older members hold back, knowing luck and chance work<\/p>\n as well as your narrowing and harrowing, your sowing and horn blowing.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Out here, for once, we know our place: next row over, third from the end.<\/p>\n It\u2019s not what we\u2019re born to, it\u2019s what we\u2019ve learned, it\u2019s what we\u2019ve earned.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n J. K. Durick<\/strong> is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Write Room<\/em>, Black Mirror<\/em>, Foliate Oak, Third Wednesday<\/em>, and Up the River<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Parking Lot There\u2019s a beauty out here that you newcomers can too easily miss in the midst of\u00a0 that hustle and hurry the world supposes of you. There\u2019s a garden here, a garden full of contemporary temporary delights, delights for the senses \u2013 the touch and taste of our times. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6571","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6571","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6571"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6571\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6573,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6571\/revisions\/6573"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6571"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6571"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6571"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}