smashed fig leaves for tea on the table,
and collected plums—one three-quarter eaten,
white blossoms bowing half-mast
in a gleaming jade vase,
ironing board in the corner,
steam rising from the unplugged iron—
even an imagined whiff of perfume
of someone who’s just left the room—
my thoughts turn the page
and see
my parents
with their heads now bent with snow
and book a flight
home—
petals falling in three-quarter time—
like snow, like dust—
still life,
but collecting all the same
© 2026 jennifer wagner
Late for but inspired by Dora’s dVerse Poetics: Borrowing Bishop, with instructions to “dip your word-brush into Bishop’s poetic inkpot, as it were, consciously incorporating accuracy (detail), spontaneity (immediacy), and mystery (revelation)…”
image generated by me using substack image generator
Love the image of white blossom bowing half-mast, and photo your parents with their heads now bent in snow. The fragility of life.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, I see this as an example of nature speaking directly to us. You got the message and bought a ticket to see your folks. A beautiful poem with your details.
ReplyDeleteA great transition from white blossoms bowing to your parents with their heads bent in snow. Sometimes nature speaks to us in mysterious ways.
ReplyDeleteA very descriptive piece of a beautiful still life I love "white blossoms bowing half-mast"
ReplyDelete