Oh, the regret.
Shopping at
Costco
on a Friday
before a holiday.
Writer’s Digest: Write a Mistake Poem
National Poetry Month: Day 4
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Thursday, April 4, 2024
Wednesday, April 3, 2024
My Miracles Use Cell Phones
One calls just because
he was thinking of me.
Another, to say he’s concerned
about someone,
is helping any way he can,
and asks if I will pray, knowing I already am.
Another to cry, to weep deep,
over children being killed in war
because it’s OK to cry with me.
Another to say, “Thank you, Mom.”
These miracles care about
making a difference.
They don’t care
about getting a better car
or better clothes.
They spend their money on groceries
for someone else,
plan trips to other countries
to do what they can to help.
Sometimes I think
the world doesn’t deserve them.
I don’t deserve them.
But that’s what the best miracles do.
They show up,
undeserved, because of love,
and make a difference.
For Mary’s prompt: Miracles
National Poetry Month: Day 3
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Natia
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Photo © 2024 Jennifer Wagner |
It was obvious
why she’d chosen the Marietta Diner,
in retrospect.
Spacecraft-esque and in Georgia.
She spilled a Coke
meant for someone else’s table
when she placed
a Cobb salad in front of me,
shaken by a few Russians discussing
the cosmonauts in a cloud of smoke nearby.
That’s when we’d recognized her
from a grainy photograph on the History Channel.
And of course, she’d had a different name.
Soon after, she’d been replaced
and we were told she’d taken ill.
But as we walked toward our Chevy,
there she was
crouching down behind it,
bumming a ride.
If someone is brave enough
to wear a red leather jumpsuit
and they ask for your help,
you know they need it.
So, we dropped her “anywhere,”
as requested.
She blew us a kiss,
and one toward the east,
then strode high, helmet in hand,
toward Narikala
and, we hoped,
home.
For Shay’s Word Garden Word List
Since I recently returned from a trip to Georgia (state not country) and watched (tripped-out over) Season 1 of Constellation, this is what the muse gave.
National Poetry Month: Day 2
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