Fully Hope End Up

 

When pain escapes,

it’s a relief.

 

Like when my mom

describes my grandma’s passing,

 

her body gripped by pain

for so many years,

 

bent in the shape

of the chair

 

where she spent

most of her last days.

 

The whoosh—

a gone pain

 

released from a mortal body.

 

I felt something like it this morning.

That One Certain Memory

 

blinking like a cursor

when I woke.

 

Do you have one, too?

That memory

 

always accompanied

by the pain that bent you, still bends you?

 

It was gone.

 

And my heart stretched out like a palm

on Sunday,

 

hope-end up

to You.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Poem-a-Day 13:  write a “Full (blank)” poem, make it your title

NaPoWriMo 13

 

Photo:  inside The Mission in the Sun © 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

a poem for palm Sunday

 

12 Days 4 the Birds

 

Twelve Days of Christmas was a risk.

I mean, I should know.

 

Here it is twelve days of poetry

and if someone

I thought of as my true love

had given me all those birds

to take care of, I’d be like,

“who’s paying for their rent, their food, their schooling?

Who hatched this plan?”

 

Seven swans a-swimming.  Who’s going to clean the pool?

 

Six geese a-laying.  As if I know what to do? Do I look like an avian midwife?

 

Four calling birds.  Do they ever keep quiet?  I’ve had four kids; this is an important question.

 

Three French hens.  At this point I would need a nice glass of wine or three, so maybe…

 

Two turtle doves.  Is it a turtle?  Is it a dove? I don’t need these questions.

 

One partridge in a pear tree.  I remember that Partridge Family show.  All that musician drama.  And apparently the father was supposed to have “died,” but now I’m wondering, did he fake his own death?

 

So, I’d say, love, you gambled and lost.

 

You can keep your five golden rings,

this is (four-letter-word) the birds.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

PAD 12:  write a risky poem

NaPoWriMo 12