Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts

Monday, March 20, 2017

thaw



late winter
in front of the fireplace,
sipping tea
in my bare feet

wood floor,
cool

the scent of a new rug,
chamomile,
lavender,
rain

mist
hovering,  fad  i   n    g


—spring!



© 2017 Jennifer Wagner

Sunday, March 5, 2017

March Right In



March right in
with all your green finery,
shake snow dust
from your limbs, your hat.

Sit, I’ve made tea.

Not those tired kinds
you wrote you would have no more of—
as you say, it’s time for oolong.

I read your letter.  Again and again.  Especially
after the sun turned her lights down before
I’d even have a chance to start the day.

I know she needs her rest
before headlining,
but honestly, she can be such a diva.
4pm?  I feel faint.  Quick, I need my brandy and eye mask.
She’s been this way for months now.

Can you talk to her?  Ah, I see you already have,
and the day seems longer for it.
And those cherry trees and daffodils
are yellow, pink, and promising.

So I won’t complain to April—look here she comes—
or hold it against you,
when the gloomy wind blows
stinging rain against my cheek.

I, uh. . .
I promise.


© 2017 Jennifer Wagner


Inspired by Emily Dickinson’s Dear March – Come In –.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Melt



The sky is that certain shade
of Saturday blue

with a ribbon of sea green
and an easiness
like hope restored.

A budding longing
for that far-off scent
of hyacinth, daffodil,
dirt—even,

burns like a mini-sun, a burgeoning sequence star,
behind the manteau of gray-black-white,
frozen-earth, crunch-bite—

a little poem
warming in the pocket of sky
that certain shade of Saturday blue.



© 2017 Jennifer Wagner