Petal Peril

Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep on a Sonoran Desert summer, or an underdog, or dark horses, or mama bears.  Such pretty things—have teeth.  They can bite; they can burn.  They last while the world tumbles and turns.  Grow fierce in threat of storm.  Stand tall when assumed to fall.  Underestimate them at your peril.  Pretty petals may be fragile—roots are not.

 

desert willow petals

blowing sideways

straight against the fall

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: “Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep…”

 

Loon Lake

 

The three of us,

with the late afternoon sun

in our hair,

semi-stuck in the reeds,

using paddles to try to turn

that little pedal boat around,

our laughter

catching the ears of teen boys

who came to give us a push—

 

where did we each end up—

different places,

but still,

the three of us,

nudged by

wind, water, sun,

 

have memory

of the last golden glint

of rowing together

in a coming-of-age summer,

and the haunting song

of loons on the lake

here and gone.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics