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| Claude Monet The Studio Boat (1876). Public Domain image. |
Hush, the lantern is burning low;
the air is crisp and sweet
on this, our orchard, son.
In the cradle of the river,
before your leaves are changing palette,
before my winter comes—
remember these: my velvet whisper,
and your dreams of green,
when my floating here is done.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner
Pregnant with my third baby,
I climbed over the black stones
to get to the beach
near Westport to go clamming—
rake in one hand,
pail in the other.
It was easier than I
thought it would be, heavy laden
as I was, and the chowder made
was even better
than I thought it would be—
smoke and ocean air a salty brine
for my wombfed son,
the thumpbeat of my heart
and the quick-tick of his in melody—
this poem
resting easy
between us
where all the rocky future had been.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner