Spring Break Up

 

Odilon Redon, Spring, circa 1910

 

Last night,

grief held my body

in deep soreness

underneath my roughened, toughened skin.

 

I lay awake, fearing to cry out

and uncork the bottle of my sorrows,

fearing the sound would

resemble new violin students

playing wretchedly and mercilessly,

and for too long.

 

Instead,

I listened for the birds,

like the chatter of children,

their rich, shattering joy

breaking silence with song.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse oln

Blue Bird

 

The shell cage inside me

swings with a haunted bird,

eyes wide

mid-molting that never completes.

 

The cage door is open,

but what use is flying

when the sky is broken.

 

Can you hear the

humiliation, grief, and shame

in her song?

 

Job and God say,

beware your “friends.”

They pretend to be with you

but just want to fix you

 

when they should

break their own harps, their harmonicas,

smash their own guitars,

 

and just let her sing.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner