Arrested

 

On the menu:

chocolate cakes.

Two, to be exact.

One with espresso in the batter, one

without.

One apple cake, one apple crisp.

One chocolate chip banana bread.

 

I am making these,

which I do not eat.

 

Pretzel peanut butter cookies are next,

or your mom’s pistachio bundt,

or pumpkin spice cupcakes,

some with sprinkles, some

without.

 

I will probably not eat much of them either.

 

Strangely, I am baking as if they are

for repast post funeral, attempts

at forgetting your superpowers,

the ones that always weakened,

arrested me.

 

Still wanting you to hold me,

settling for within,

but

without.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

For The Word Garden Word List—Tomb Sweeping

Box(ed)

 

Bring me hope

that hasn’t forgotten

that look in my eyes.

 

Capture

all my longing

long gone

 

and bring it back

as if you’ve wrestled leviathan, stinging nettles,

the inky blackness of your own heart.

 

Bring it back,

run your hand over it,

as if you cared.

 

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

Everlove (Softly to Be Let In)

photo of card from our neighbor

This poem is about a dog,

you know the one,

the one who danced in the kitchen

with the kids after dinner;

the one who nibbled gently

on your shirtsleeve

when you played and scratched and loved him;

the one who howled happy,

and barked deep if asked to speak,

but softly to be let in;

the one who taught you more

than you taught him.

This poem is about a dog

who, with his final breaths,

looked you, each, in the face

one long, loving, last time.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

In Memory of Druke Wagner 2000-2016