Summer Crickets

we held them

in an empty jar

holes popped into the lid

trickling grasses

and bits of dirt

to make their new home

they were always gone

by morning

set free as we slept

by grandpa

saving them

for tomorrow’s hunt

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

The Telling

she carpeted her windswept fears with conversational banality

every time he chanced upon her truths

when those raw elements exuded from her blood to her tissues

she could hold them back no longer

she had no more strength to restrain

those flooding fibers,

the secret self, less understood but more familiar even

than the blouse of self-belittlements she had grown accustomed to

with tremulous hand she peeled back the covers of her deathbed

confession

when the things she could never say

began to drip, horrifyingly, from her lips

she knew she’d been dying to tell him

it was death not to

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner 
Linked in the 1st Anniversary Edition of dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight

Unsung Rain

I held you in my hands,

cupped you to my face,

drenched myself in your flood,

and hid tears in your presence

                        as a secret we shared.

Your music put me to sleep

and drowned the echo of sorrows

in long nights you rocked me,

showering drops against the pane

—were you begging to be let in?

When you stayed until the morning

washing and making things new,

I’d wake and sing my insensitive song,

frowning, I’d begin…

“Rain, rain go away…"

Even then you would sigh,

contentedly, from heaven;

peering sheepishly from behind clouds

as I wiped the sugars off my mouth

from the fruits that were your labor.

Never did you seek applause of me,

always willing to play sidekick, straight man, to our comedic sun

while I laughed among flowered mornings

that without you

                        would never have been quite so sweet.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

in Carry on Tuesday and Poets United Poetry Pantry

Reconciling the Sea - a series haiku

watching driftwood

roll in                   

silently                  

slow sea breeze

blowing salt

into old wounds

the undercurrent

an ocean

between them

the tide

rinsing away

bitter roots

fingers

like seaweed

intertwine

their kiss

on the beach

even seagulls speechless

tongues make

slow laps

home

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

added to dVerse Poetics: Whatever the Weather and Poets United Poetry Pantry 

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

Old Tan Oldsmobile

I could practically smell the cigarettes

Though the windows were rolled up

In the aging tan-colored Oldsmobile

It is the first thing I noticed, strangely

A sun-shriveled old face

Peered above the steering wheel

Crowned by a large straw hat

We were united he and I

Two travelers, strangers

Our only common ground the numbing freeway

I began to wonder about his life

And wonder if he wondered about mine

I imagined him an artist

A widower, missing his children

Who again forgot to send a card

I could see him on the old dock

On the summer lake at dusk

Sitting cross-legged, casting his line

Thinking of the malignancy

That took them all from him

That steady current in his own veins

I craved to know his stories

A little girl version of Manolin

And suddenly he was The Old Man and the Sea

As I made my exit

My eyes lingered on the aged auto, aged hat, aged man

Continuing together to amble the road

I silently wished him farewell

And for his final battle, one

Not so bitter-sweet as Santiago’s

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner 
Added to The Poetry Pantry

Spring Canzonet

The peonies danced perfectly;

with each windshake

perfumed heads

sprinkled sweet dew to the soil.

For a moment she longed to be them;

to listen,

to draw the lyric breath,

and contribute her song.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner 
Shared in imaginary garden

Eight

     

     spitting watermelon seeds

          proudly

     through the new hole in his teeth

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Eleven at Tulalip

Me, the flightless bird

Soaring in your wildblue

Filled

With mysteries

 

Bathing in moonlight as

The fingers of night

Brushed

Through ribbons of me

 

Sweet, your mouth,

My tears on your lips,

Tasted

So much so I wished to never end them

 

Me, the flightless bird

Now securely

Perched

In the cove on the mountain I didn’t think I could climb

 

 

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Seattle Spring

all day long

  violets in the rain

  bleed hello

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner