fear not, for we’re just poems—

 

 

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

 

photo © jennifer wagner

Petal Peril

Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep on a Sonoran Desert summer, or an underdog, or dark horses, or mama bears.  Such pretty things—have teeth.  They can bite; they can burn.  They last while the world tumbles and turns.  Grow fierce in threat of storm.  Stand tall when assumed to fall.  Underestimate them at your peril.  Pretty petals may be fragile—roots are not.

 

desert willow petals

blowing sideways

straight against the fall

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: “Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep…”