Where Does Love Go When It Goes

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

 

Yesterday, I took a tomato from the vine,

bit into its warm flesh, and let it fill my mouth

with sun.  The only thing missing

was a pinch of salt from your hand,

brushing seeds from my lips.

 

Today, I plunged my fingers into soil

and found my hands unbroken,

though my heart was cracked and capsizing. 

I settled peppers in neat rows to grow,

salt drying in smooth rivers on my cheeks.

 

Tomorrow, or sometime hereafter,

there’ll be salsa.  I’ll take water, make wine.

Where does love go when it goes?  It’s never lost,

but found in the seasoning,

in the garden, of the survivor.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: Where does love go?

What’s Going On?  Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Powdered Sugar

 

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

 

That summer was sort of the last of its kind—

before most of my grandparents, grandaunts and uncles,

had passed on into the wild indigo mystery.  Before I

crossed fully over into the worry-wonder

of adulthood of counting dollars and calories.

 

Mama handed me some

of the former and told me

to go buy some of the latter.

 

As I sleepy-stepped to the corner store

for powdered raspberry donuts

and chocolate milk—I knew it, too, somehow.

 

I sipped and licked my sugared fingers

strolling Davenport’s Pioneer Days

watching cowboys and wannabees getting loud

after kicking back a few, too early, pre-parade—

the sun still high, sprinkling my

nose and shoulders with youthful glow and freckles.

 

Soon after, I’d be resettling

on the other side of the Cascade Mountains,

and deeper into rugged teen terrain.

 

But it was oh-so-good to look around

and say goodbye to dust-filled trails

and small-town streets—to lick my fingers, savoring

the innocence already passing behind my dark eyes,

and for a day to feel younger than seventeen.

 

I wiped a tear before I got back

to Mama—handing her what was left

of the box of donuts, and what would be

just the beginnings of change.

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

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