Florence

By the window,

lapping up the sun,

I read Rossetti’s, “The First Spring Day,”

and leaned my head against the pane

as if to become one

with blush blossoms

sprouting from the tree

and our neighbor’s sign

in bright yellow, pink and green:  hello spring.

Spring:  Florence Nightingale’s

cool kiss on the fevered brow of humanity.

Oh blow, swing your lamp—

your breath, meadowsweet,

your step, light, in our cimmerian war.

© 2020 Jennifer Wagner

dverse poetics:  in the time of the plague

Hope you all are well.  ~Love, Jen

“The First Spring Day” by Christina Rossetti

Thank You, April

April, I am starved for light,

bring a little, please,

to the window

where I can see summer

lolling about the hills afar off.

Ah, yes, I see her now,

shoeless in leaves of grass,

picking blackberries,

Sonnet 18 nearing couplet.

April, you’re a long way from summer,

but at least I can see her from here.

© 2017 Jennifer Wagner

“Distinctive realms appear to us when we look and hear by poem-light.” - Jane Hirshfield, Ten Windows.  Happy Poetry Month with appreciation to poems by Sandburg, Heaney and Shakespeare.  

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