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Chuparosas sip from the cups
of orange-red ocotillo blooms,
the sky waves fresh gold dust
and the desert’s perfume
rises with spring
cracking open every new thing—
even as something old,
something blue, hangs between us
stitched darkly like threads
around a once-golden sun.
But I’ve long stopped wishing
for nothing blue.
Without night, I’d miss the stars.
Without the needle, there’d be no quilt.
Without seeing in a different light,
I’d miss the sharp beauty produced by thorns.
© 2026 Jennifer Wagner
dVerse Poetics: Something Borrowed, Something Blue
What’s Going On? Choosing Beauty
Wow, just wow, Jennifer! Profound. Without the night one would not see the stars. And being able to see the beauty in thorns. It is all in the way one looks at things! Really a good poem!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Mary. This poem is a beauty, full of the wonders all around that should keep us in awe. I so love "without seeing in a different light, I'd miss the sharp beauty....." So very true. That ability to see Beyond is what saves us, I think.
ReplyDeleteA dark sunshine here, Jennifer, of unalleviated beauty --- the feeling I leave with from your wonderful poem. From the first word rolling off our tongues (as the "Chuparosas sip") to the last light of the day and the "different light" of stars and the sweet sharpness of thorns, I feel the sacredness that the desert produces. As always, you make the corporeal so "real." Amazing poetry, Jennifer. Love it.
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