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the white fire of your indignation
crested in waves at my new-found feet
like teeth
i walked out
lonely as I came,
but happy as a clam, high tide—
cowries tinkling around my neck,
scales falling, hope
spilling cups of moonlight on the sand
© 2026 jennifer wagner
dVerse q: “dig” buried somewhere in a poem of exactly 44 words

This is a lovely image
ReplyDeletehope
spilling cups of moonlight on the sand
skillful wordsmithing, Jennifer
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