Palm

The river holds a boat,

a canoe,

a drowning man.

 

The boat motors away.

The canoe slips past

with a swish-slap of a paddle.

 

The bent bough of a tree sways, stoops

to reach him.

He grasps the rough bark

 

of the living branch—

and lets go

of the splintering soft-shadows

 

of the speedily dying

fading toward the light

who’ve no time now.

 

Reaching shore, will he

sputter curses

at his fellow man

 

or praise the Creator

in the helping hand

and become a palm-giving man?

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Poetic Bloomings 

 

 “…only God can make a tree.”  - Joyce Kilmer

 

Memorial Flowers

 

Tomorrow we’ll attend your service of remembrance.  And I will remember you.  Your stories, your recipes, your smile and laughter at our beloved Labrador.  Your love of sweets, your faith in God.  I am happy your body held out and held up long enough to see you into an age many don’t survive to—and happy I got to know you.  It was a blessing to bless you.  To visit you and hear your voice of pride for your children, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter.  I hope I am as happy and delight-filled and delightful as you were in all my last days.

 

white natal plum blossom

dropped from the shrub

still scents the air on hummingbird wings

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

dVerse Haibun Monday: Memento Mori

 

for my beloved neighbor Mary