Showing posts with label Birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birds. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

happiness is sleeping in (a nonet)

 

after a restful night’s sleep, i woke

to soft rain, the rap of a bird

on the pane—like music spun

for a chorus of play—

instead of the dread,

ache of the head,

and the plans of

an alarm-

devised

day

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

dVerse poetics


Monday, September 22, 2025

Mourning Dove in Milk and Pepper

 

Like dropped white petals

in the Colonel’s yard,

lie wing bones

and feathers—

 

cat, coyote, or

desert skunk,

having taste for only

head and trunk.

 

But, no hint of scent

of the last night spent—basting

in the coo that ended in a coup.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Quadrille

 

Wednesday, July 2, 2025

Cresting the Cascades (the Feathered Scent of Hope)

 

A thousand trees from sunset,

each with a hand held out our windows

 

cupping an apricot wind,

a warm pine breeze combs through our hair.

 

We curve, and twist,

take one last dip

 

before the fall of the sun

and the rising

 

of a champagne moon

bubbling up,

 

spilling the glass,

jealous of day’s light.

 

And just like that,

she’s cresting the berried branches,

 

nesting on the seat

between us,

 

that thing with feathers,

suddenly thirsty, opening wide,

 

suddenly bright.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

  

For The Word Garden Word List and

What’s Going On?  Fragrance

 

Hope is the thing with feathersEmily Dickinson, of course.

 


Friday, June 13, 2025

El Vernadero

 

It’s more than a place,

it’s a calling—

where red hibiscus,

and pink, too,

blush the air with their kisses.

 

This old Spanish hotel,

a retreat among royal palms,

where Florence’s Alcove

calls poets back to their gurgling dreams

near carvings of animals

and fountains for black-throated sparrows.

 

It’s more than a respite, or retreat,

it’s an oasis shaded in the desert sun,

where little casitas dot storied stone pathways

 

—and just walking here

turns lion to lamb,

and my eyes—brown silk,

soft and lamplit,

as if in parallel realm,

cured of the madness

of a lesser world.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 


 

Combining the prompts from two of my most-admired poets.

Shay’s Word Garden Word List

Dora’s Poetics at dVerse: A View of One’s Own (I’m too late to link)

 

“El Vernadero” means “winter haven” and was the original name of the “Royal Palms” at the base of Camelback Mountain in Arizona.  I live locally and visit it often—and feel as if I’m on vacation every time I do—even just walking the grounds.  I could not love it more.

 

Photos © 2025 Jennifer Wagner