They say one
becomes euphoric
just before
death.
It was January,
but
the flowerboxes
were filling
too quickly
with snow.
And Mama, at
home in her armchair,
can only grab
her chest,
wring her hands,
fearing
delivery
of her
cherished child
in reverse,
with not a lick
euphoric enough
to console the
freezing of her heart.
©
2024 Jennifer Wagner
For the amazing
Shay’s Word Garden Word List: Spill
Simmer Falter Wither
I recently read,
and took inspiration from, Ted Kooser’s book, The Blizzard Voices, which
is a book of short poems based on the experiences of people living in the Great
Plains during what’s known as the Children’s Blizzard of 1888. Sadly, many children were lost trying to get
home from school during the surprise storm.
My mom is from Nebraska and says they were taught about it as part of state
history. After reading about it, I
dreamt of a school teacher who saved her pupils by sticking them together with
Grey Poupon and marshmallows. I can’t
explain it; dreams are weird, but that is another poem.
NPM Day 11