Morning

When the air is fresh

you feel it:  you get stronger

with each breath.

Your son

is slicing oranges

and it’s so sweet—

he’s so sweet—the scent

of his golden-brown hair

warm with sun.

The old deck creaks a bit

as you walk on it,

cracked and weather worn

as you are,

but still here,

still here.

© 2019 Jennifer Wagner

OLN

Proven

International District, Seattle WA

Photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Afterward

she felt just like

the used condom,

            discarded

amidst the cigarette butts

and partially eaten food.

The refuse

stacked up,

lining the side streets

and back streets

of the insides of her,

piling up

on her chalk outline.

Wasn’t she

what had been done to her?

But the point of no return

to what               

she thought of herself

was the road less traveled,

            a cross in the path—

and the journey upward,

a process

littered

with the things

she has chosen to leave behind;

and that has made all the difference.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

A little bit of a spin off Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.

dVerse OLN

Electric

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

I searched and searched

for the sun, but could not find it.

So I traveled east to where your arms

grew soft against mine, softer.

The full bloom scent of electric blue

burst within the wild

to chase that dark day wisp of cloud to white—

white like night when just past black,

and into new day dawning

to find and enter that centered

rose of sun,

asking where I’ve been.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Poets United: The Poetry Pantry

Abhorrent

Image by TheFoxAndTheRaven, via The Mag

what does it say about you

that i’d rather be here

huddling in rain

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

A haiku written for The Mag 158 and for the Real Toads prompt 'Today We Scream’ brought to us by Susie Clevenger in honor of the Woman Scream International Poetry Festival to raise awareness through poetry about violence against women.  My poem refers to the domestic variety.

Image:  Woman Scream Internacional Poetry Festival

Your Tonic Like Hawthorn

Hawthorn berries (Crataegus monogyna) 

Image:  Wikimedia Commons

you’re not

supposed to speak softly

in feather light whispers

at my throat

language foreign

to a scrap like me

my mini-heart flutters

in its hummingbird bones

afraid it might learn how to

cherish me too

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

 

*Note:  Hawthorn berries, flowers and leaves are used as an herbal medicine in the treatment of heart and cardiovascular ailments.

Written for dVerse Poetics where Fred Rutherford has us keeping it brief!