Fairy Tale, Ending

Brush my mind

with ticklings of innocence;

I’ve since passed them

sinking in the quicksand

of want;

disclosing destroyed

and heaving parts,

the remnants of ugliness

from connubial war.

Disgusted,

our most real selves

are painfully owning all of it, even

the gaps so richly fabled when it suited.

Cleverly cloaked

in our reckless game of moth-eaten promise;

the bearers of bad news

always held their tongue.  They all knew their fate,

when veracity

was so uncomely.

Solemn workers of the gallows have finally come

to set the masqueraders free.

It’s a ghastly job to examine the photo

pulled from the frame

when the lies were just so pretty.

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Apparently I am indefinite article deficient.  I'm sorry if you read this post before I made the fix on the third to last line.  I'm going to blame it on the flu.  I'll be linking up at dVerse Poets Pub for OpenLinkNight tomorrow!

Frozen Yesterday

I tied his little-kid size 12 gray converse shoes

while he crunched almonds

and bragged between swallows

about beating me at Go Fish.

I hid my grin

and tried to look disappointed

for losing.

Zipping up his green hoodie

we left

for afternoon Kindergarten

at 11:55.

He was concerned

that his friend wouldn’t be at school—

he’d made a paper Christmas tree

and put it into an envelope,

scotch-taped a blue candy cane to the outside

for a little present.

Walking him to the line,

I said “have a great day, buddy,”

then waved and watched as he walked through the doors,

backpack almost as big as he is, bouncing.

I thought of how many parents did this today,

leaving their hearts

in a five year old body

on cold tile floors.

And I couldn’t leave the parking lot.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner 

Dear God, dear God…more tears than words for all who are gripped in this horrific tragedy in Newtown, CT.

Got the jump on this prompt with Brian’s post yesterday.  Linking up with the amazing poets at dVerse Poetics.  I'll also be linking to The Poetry Pantry.

When words are few, perhaps there is a song.

Hollow

deep in the wintergreens

of twilight

it grows

 where birds of song

vacate homes in season’s passing,

gathering shadows of keeping;

 and berries, frozen—

are bejeweling 

the trampled floor

of the forest wide and deep

 of her glacial heart

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Poets United: The Poetry Pantry

Newly Fallen White

Her skirt of scarlet pulled

from the ankle;

as she hastened her steps

breath rose in forms of smoky blue.

Stopping cold on broken twigs

frozen in fairy tale,

she peered upward. Snow fell

with no cloud in the sky.

How soon lovers forsake the

faithful whispers of moonlight;

cooing birds shutter, flutter

and blur the lines with tears.

She’d only wanted one to love her,

but tragic oaths of mutilated promise                 

breed an anemic beast hungry for

a burning, scorching bite.

The milky air

washed invisible the copse of antiquity

while her lips turned aubergine

against the newly fallen white of frosty vows.

She squeezed the fruit and

licked the juice of indiscretion

with no pleasure.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

dVerse OpenLinkNight Opening 12pm Pacific Time

Crumbs

the crumbs of midnight

still hang on the eaves of disappointment

while she longs for tenderness

from an empty bottle

of hope

it stares back, blankly

wordlessly reminding her

unfittingly placed

it does not spring eternal

nor can it button

the suit of outgrown

reasons she pulls the cork

to suck from its desiccated dregs again 

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner
added to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night