rubbed together in a pocket,
rattling
smallish and fierce,
davidic—
or, too, like pieces of cloud
puffy-white against a blanket of oh-so-baby-tear-drop blue
or, a drip-draping of grayish snow,
just a tad cranky, only a touch ominous
or rising
like the sun, or a siren, yea high and heralding—
costa’s hummers and pink fairy dusters
and other such underestimated beautiful mayhem
© 2026 jennifer wagner
dVerse poetics: turn of phrase