Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 11, 2016


Yes, little one,

there are mountains.

And storms.

And rain.

But, oh, the




© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The Wedding Gift

The chime is engraved
with a lighthouse,
a harbor,
a ship on the sea.

It hangs from the eaves
above our deck

and has, for nearly
seventeen years,
sprinkled its tune
at every house
we've called home.

It fell
in a major storm,

was never broken, but
lay serenely
at our feet

ready to give light, melody.

And though
I tire of wind,
of storms,
it's taught me to listen,
                       trust light
play on.

© 2015 Jennifer Wagner

Friday, September 12, 2014

Things I Should Know By Now


something spilled
after mopping.

to not have
brushed teeth,
even with several reminders.

to throw garbage bags
“at” outdoor garbage bin
instead of “in” it.

to fret about being late
worse than
the White Rabbit.

dirty plates,
empty pizza box
where nineteen-year-old


to be loved
despite words
I should not have said
regarding the above.

to repeat.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Thursday, September 11, 2014


Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

artist point
how a mistake can still be
so beautiful

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Above is a photo I took this summer at Artist Point in Yellowstone National Park.  The location got its name because it was widely believed that Thomas Moran created a sketch there which he used to create his famous 1872 painting, The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.  In 1890 photographer F. Jay Hanes published a park guidebook with the name and the title stuck.  The location Moran actually used is now called Moran Point. 

I was trying to convey the essence of that history in the poem, as well as another message which I think has a connection to artistry of any type: poetry, photography, painting, motheringsmilesetc. that, even if it may not be perfect, it can still be pretty beautiful.

Friday, April 4, 2014

In Memory

photo © 2014 jennifer wagner

what is found
when we are
broken down
to remnants, to debris?

things we treasured,
things we valued?

as i read the names
of the lost and missing
my tongue

each   L
each   I
each   F
each   E
i gulp
and time

91 years
71 years
69, 67, 66, 65, 64, 63, 61, 60 years
59, 58, 55, 53, 52 years
49, 47, 45, 41 years
36, 35, 31 years
23, 21 years
19 years
14 years
13 years
6 years
5 years
4 years
2 years
4 months

how quickly, each,
in a moment’s breath,
like the morning fog,

to be summed up
not by things
but by those who cared,
who knew what made them
more than mist.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

As of today there are 30 people confirmed dead and 17 still missing in the landslide in Oso.  I tried to get all the ages of victims down here (some victims were the same age, of course); my apologies for any I have missed.
The team my husband is on will hand the baton to the next set of searchers and will likely be able to come home tomorrow for much needed rest.  We haven’t seen him since he left to be a part of the search but we have been able to talk.  He has some heartbreaking and amazing stories.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Snow like Eiderdown

When death comes
you find yourself trying to catch up to it,
to face facts,

like pulling on a winter coat
when the cold has already
bitten you clean through
and all that’s left is
dark acceptance.

You’ve had the denial,
the anger,
the bargaining,
the depression.

Now, you’re hunkering down
with no more Why God on your tongue.
You’ve realized what a colossal waste of time
that has proven to be,
as some questions
simply remain unanswered—
to your suffering.

But you pray, anyway.
Breathe in – sharp pain.
Breathe out – cry.
Breathe in – dull pain.
Breathe out –

a season of counted breaths
you decided to take in spite of the ache.
One broken foot in front of the other,
wincing as you wait.

For what?  You don’t know, but—






somehow bringing
a small peace, a light comfort
in the way of things.

You watch children
catch flakes on their tongues,
listen to giggles
and excited chatter
as they toss snowballs,

and soon realize
isn’t silent anymore.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For the Poetry Jam prompt:  What Brings You Comfort?  Snow is comforting to mewatching it fallthe way it settles, covers everything, and of course watching kids play in it. 

I’ve been in Las Vegas for my son’s baseball tournament so it’s great to be back and see what I’ve missed.  Looking forward to making rounds and catching up with what you all have written!