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Photo © 2023 Jennifer Wagner |
Unfold a whisper
held on your tongue—
it is sweetest released
on the curve of my ear—
your lips a light-touch paintbrush
coloring my skin.
And you will find me
folding
my hand into yours—
a canvas of two—
us blended,
entwined and unending.
© 2023 Jennifer Wagner
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Photo © 2023 Jennifer Wagner |
Rescued from the pool filter,
Balboa had a scratch
on the house on his back.
We set him in the garden
between two rosemary shrubs
(Romero in Spanish, like my son’s name,
who said, keep him, Mom,
and let him be a burden to your
children’s children).
While we searched for what to do,
I thought we’d lost him
to heat, to bird—but there,
stamping the grass,
the champ!
A late-round come back!
And between my index and thumb
we rushed him
to the pond.
Two large turtles
rose to the surface
poking their heads out.
I said, we rescued your baby!
And hoped
someone
will do the same.
© 2023 Jennifer Wagner