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"
ReplyDeleteI do love the way you do this as a still life... then I have to know that there were plums still left, just to say
ReplyDeleteA stunning still life, Jennifer, especially the splash of colour in ‘white blossoms bowing half-mast in a gleaming jade vase’. I smiled at the ‘ironing board in the corner, steam rising from the unplugged iron’, which reminded me of the one in our dining room.
ReplyDeleteGreat response to the Bishop challenge -- all these fractional elements filling up into a stillness both greiving and complete. I sure want my fourth quarter to end that way.
ReplyDeleteAll three elements of Bishop's "inkpot" thrive in this "still life"-- the phrase both a representation and a movement of life in its echoing continuity. I like the exquisite comparison of "snow" and "dust." What a plum of poem, Jennifer! Thank you for sharing. You've made my day all the more richer for it.
ReplyDeleteThe universe is watching. And conspiring to get us where we need to be to recalibrate us. I love this. Thanks. Xo, Selma Martin
ReplyDeleteWhat a stunning write, Jennifer!
ReplyDeleteWow, beautiful!
ReplyDeleteA gorgeous poem, Jennifer ~ could not finish without a tear or two dribbling down my cheeks. I miss my mother and step-father so very much. My father died when I was but fifteen going on sixteen. A plane ticket impossible ... day dreams and night dreams fill the emptiness. Thank you for the gift of this poem. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful sensory melée, Jennifer. I love how you describe your parents 💖
ReplyDelete