Now & Then

 

 

Now, the streets are worn and cobbled,

but among them I still hover, hobble—

survivor of the fate, the madness, of the war.

 

Then, it was otherworldly,

that Italian sketchbook summer,

flesh-flushed out in lush, romantic watercolor form.

 

Then, we walked

through wildflowers,

caught our dresses on the hands of orchids,

bridged the brushsong birdsong,

daisies threaded in our hair.

 

Now, that page has turned,

but I return to the art of tenderness alone—

stumbling, trying still

to catch our spirits’ crash

before the fall broke us to stone.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Shay’s Word Garden Word List: Tenderness

dVerse Poetics: Fated, OLN

Day 24 NPM

 

This Poem Is in Disguise

 

This poem is a bowl of cereal

with mostly milk left inside.

 

This poem smells like sweaty socks.

 

This poem learned how to ride a bike,

pick up a pen, how to read a story,

make scrambled eggs.

 

This poem dented the car with aforementioned bike.

 

This poem broke the upstairs window

with an arrow.

 

This poem left marks on the wall.

 

This poem knows how to shave,

leaves clippings in the sink,

and sometimes wears a beard.

 

This poem still rests its head on my knees.

 

This poem is a bowl of cereal

with mostly milk left inside.

 

This poem sits on the table

making a ring

around my heart.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Inspired by Sherry’s prompt at What’s Going On?  My poem is inspired by the Boomerang Metaphor form she references but does not adhere to its rules.

Day 23 of NPM

From Day One

 

Ever since

you came by river,

the basket of my belly birthing

 

you and me together,

you to life, me to mother—

 

from day one,

your dreams have been

my very heart’s delight.

 

It’s been nearly thirty years

and I never tire of knowing—

 

tell me, son,

what sings in you today?

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Poem a Day 22:  write a “tell me” poem

What's Going On?