Sometimes I pull these poems
out of the hat of my heart—
black coffee, moonlight,
a silver-tipped spear.
Take what you will of them,
they’re mine to give—all or none.
Like this one.
Darling rabbit, unfrantic, and
soul-bounce away, less fretful
of time’s sand already swept away
by gravity through finger-roots,
filling up the bottom
of the hourglass. Now see this.
New soil.
Lift, flip,
start again.
© 2025 Jennifer Wagner