Showing posts with label After the Storm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label After the Storm. Show all posts

Sunday, December 1, 2024

stay

 

you ask me to

and i don’t know how to answer

 

i want to

know

 

what it’s like to stay

now

 

so much

in that look

 

my cells

multiplying

 

like time-lapse

photosynthesis

 

curling myself

around that

 

one

word

 

as if

light

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Swallowed Up

 

Swallowed up

in the belly of my bones,

a shy sweetheart, guarded.

 

Swallowed up

in the belly of my heart,

a promised ark, departed.

 

Swallowed up

in the belly of the storm,

where it started.

 

Swallowed up

in the belly of a hawk,

hope, disregarded.

 

Swallowed up

in the belly of a crow,

the dream, a shell, discarded.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

Word Garden Word List

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Desert Wings

 

Before the purpling of the sky,

a Great-tailed Grackle

bemoaned the heat

with open mouth.

 

He was gone

before the dust storm blew

across the lawn

turning it, and us, ashen.

 

There were no bells,

no ceremony.

Only this: dead

voices

 

rising

like motors running

from somewhere in the deep

 

stirring memories

of my bare feet

in the sand,

 

my hands lifting

shells from the shore

for a backward listen.

 

How different it all was back then.

 

But it wasn’t, was it?

Life has always been

roiling about us

in the mix of the fair

and the foul.

 

Did we just let

all that darkness take over,

choking everything

in toxic grip?

 

Did we just ignore it,

hoping the tide would go

just as it came?

 

Even so,

what I know now

I will not remain

perched to repeat,

 

she-grackle,

small and brown,

mouth open in the heat,

shaking sand

from my unfolding wings.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

Shay’s Word Garden Word List

 

Since birds have no sweat glands, we often see Great-tailed Grackles walking about with their mouths open to cool down in the AZ summer heat.