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

Two Things

 

 

She says she’s ready to go

and I know she means

two things at once.

 

I feel selfish for wanting her to mean

only one—

 

to stay with us a little longer

enjoying the hummingbird blanket I bought her

(she says it’s her favorite),

and the chocolates she loves

(at 95 I’ve introduced her to something new),

to hear her stories

of when she first moved to Phoenix

with her beloved, 71 years ago.

 

But bones are breaking in her spine

and cataracts and histoplasmosis

from the Ohio River Valley

make it so she can’t see much anymore.

 

She wants to go home

and Home.

 

Holding onto my hands

a little longer at the Rehab Center,

I hear a fluttering, a humming

I recognize as goodbye.

 

And so, this poem,

meant to explain, to show and not tell,

to show and to tell,

 

why I am a poet and not something else—

sits here between two things—

 

where else can I put

all the joy and pain

held in between

these brief but beautiful wings.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

NaPoWriMo Day 3

dVerse free verse

 

Here

Today, blue is a dusk-purple sunrise

shaken by wind,

cloudy

with a chance of—?

 

Rain.  No, I wouldn’t call it that.

Not from where I come from.

 

But here,

just a spattering of

little holes left in the sand,

a thumbprint’s depth

is all.

 

But here I take your hand,

walk where a coyote

shimmies up under the fence,

trotting off,

eyes darting.

He’s confident he’ll find prey here.

 

I should be so confident

you always provide

what I need.

And if you don’t,

and I die,

I die

provided for.

I am always in your hands.

 

I don’t believe this is all there is

any more

than I am all there is.

 

I didn’t create this breath in my lungs

or the lungs which breathe it,

didn’t create this dust

which matches my skin—

cells blowing away into

the atmosphere.

 

I didn’t create my own life—

that’s your job.

I am to live it—that’s mine.

 

And to you my life will go

when it’s done.

 

This sand, this dust

I am

to I AM.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

I AM:  Exodus 3:14, John 8:58

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”  Daniel 3:17-18

“For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His.”  Hebrews 4:10