Honeymoon, Cabo San Lucas, 1998

 

ghost crabs scurrying on the beach at night

 

our umbrella being stolen while we were snorkeling on Tortuga Beach

the tide, too, (almost) stealing our lunch

 

replacing the Cokes in the hotel fridge so we wouldn’t get charged

 

the glass bottom boat seasick tour, one yellow fish

 

our sunburns

 

our wild ride up the coast

in the convertible bug

 

the best Italian food (whodathunkit)

 

the wild burro nodding sleepily

 

the photo of our feet at the pool

my ring

and the silver and onyx bracelet I still wear

 

The Hotel California, or at least the sign for it

 

pink champagne on ice (actually, margaritas)

dancing in the courtyard (actually, evading the police)

 

checking out and

never leaving—

 

coming up on the 27^th lovesick tour with you (whodathunk that, too)

 

us, ghost crabs, scurrying on the beach,

still evading the police (when we have to!)

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

a list poem for poem-a-day 25: write a memory poem

 

A Day's Journey from Blueberry to Heron

 

 

Poetry can be like this—

blueberry stains on my fingers

from shoving them straight

from the bush to my mouth

—blackberries, too.

 

Seeing six rotting oranges

sitting underneath a tree—

hoping they smell good

to what crawls below.

 

The desert cottontail,

a perfect Russel Stover,

who froze still in the sun

when I stepped lightly by—

nothing but nose twitching.

 

A box full of free grapefruits

on the road

in front of the cottage house—

heavy, ripe, uneven.

 

The new puppy, dancing,

learning a leash, excited

to come to me—still unsure

which of us wanted to play more.

 

A Great Blue Heron

with long, delicate legs,

sleek and slow-hunting

at our green-gold pond.

 

I say our,

because it’s yours, too—

as is this journey-poem, for you to add

your own lovely thing to.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

“Look for a lovely thing and you will find it,

It is not far—

It never will be far.”

-Sara Teasdale

What's Going On?  Beauty

Blood and Birthstone

 

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

I loved red long before Sammy sang of it,

my hair turning back to it,

sign and signal, siren rang of it.

 

Old brick station, ladder truck and engine,

your beard, my lips, leather jacket tassel tips,

’65 Mustang, candy apple red.

 

Blushing secret, unwrapped,

sugared red to pink.  The sink

into red-petaled, satin, Valentine sheets.

 

Glass of cabernet, raspberry to plum,

Burt’s Bees Hibiscus Balm.

Autumn leaves, rubies.

 

Terra-cotta, sandstone,

sweet tomato bliss,

my broken favorite mug, blood,

 

and afterward, the kiss.

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

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