ghostcave

 

 

 

the way the light

carves into a broken heart

and makes an empty tomb

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

poetic bloomings:  matters of the heart

day 20

 

photo:  antelope canyon © jennifer wagner

Haibunyum

Planted, it grew.  As seeds are supposed to do.  Water (of course), dark (sandy loam preferred), light (direct, for several hours a day). But it was a potato and not technically a seed.  And, therefore, a little safer from chickadees.  What it grew into once baked (or twice), au gratin-ed, mashed, fried, gnocci-ed, latke-d, made some t-uber good comfort food.  And without getting too chippy about it. . .

 

haiku na ma tuber tot

means no eating

a potato seed

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

What’s Going On?  Seed (or in this case, not one ;-P)

Day 18

 

never mind the white chickens

 

so much depends

upon

 

my reserve dark

chocolate

 

you don't even know

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

 

it’s been one of those days--Day 8

NaPoWriMo

a senryu play on WCW’s “The Red Wheelbarrow,” of course

 

Monotony

I’ll admit it.  It doesn’t feel much like love when I’m doing it.  Laying out bread, layering meat, cheese, lettuce.  Slicing apples.  Refilling water bottles.  Granola bars.  Crackers.  Daily packing lunches to be eaten by hungry kids the next day just feels like a task.  And one I often feel like not doing.  But that’s love, isn’t it?  And my kids never wonder if and when they will get their next meal.  Never.  With tears, I am grateful for this privilege I dismiss as monotonous duty.

the happiest chirp

at the freshly filled feeder

humbled, I’m quickened

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

For dVerse Haibun Monday:  Quotidian

Note:  I believe my haiku to be classified as more of a senryu since it includes the human element with nature/season.  Thanks for reading!