Postcard 77

i had just turned six when

Elvis died

my mom with her long, dark hair

and my aunt, blonde and long too—

sat out on the steps

with their friends

and their short shorts, sobbing;

Tab and real Pepsi

in the bottle

Virginia Slims between the index

and middle

age

i watched,

barefoot in the warm shade;

topaz eyes full and wide,

little legs tan; and tendril-bleached,

umber hair, wild—

even i knew i wouldn’t  forget

where i was that day

when i heard

‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’

in the background

and cried too

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Sliding in to link up with the amazing poets at dVerse Poets Pub for OpenLinkNight.

revised 2.6.13

First Blush

mirrored

cherry lip gloss

in pale pink wish for spring

a light breeze bringing blossom thoughts

of you

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

My adapted offering for the Weekend Mini-challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads where Marian has challenged us to write a Cinquain; a form of poetry created by American poet Adelaide Crapsey.

Red-winged Blackbird's Funeral

Red-winged Blackbird, Wikimedia Commons

The sky played a trick,

impeding my flight—

dealing my doom.

The worm did not cry,

escaping to the depths

of a joyous homecoming.

Faces in the sky

of my sunset

held their breaths for me,

but brains

do not re-enter skulls;

and trash bags become funerary.

At least

I do not die alone

and without mourners.

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For Peggy’s prompt at Poetry Jam where the prompt is to write from the perspective of an animal.  This incident happened a couple of weeks ago.  A red-winged blackbird flew into our picture window so forcefully it could not recover.  The worm in its beak fell out and crawled away.  The bird, though so fatally wounded, struggled heartily. My boys were mostly fascinated by the scene and the science of it all.  But as the only female in a household of boys and men, it tore my heart a bit. 

Vamp

a murderous

winter passion

held its icy grip

on juicy melons,

mellow-rich

the blood

of raspberries

stained her fingertips

and mouth, lost

in strawberry sublime

found every drop

of juice

every seed

divine

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

  

My smoothie obsession/therapy continues...

Emily (Hope Kicks)

hope

kicks

you

when you need it

if you must

cry

scream (it’s unfair)

swear (every word you can think of)

snot running,

mascara flowing

down your chin

allow it

for one hour

or one day

eat chocolate

eat the cake

the whole damn thing

pity party

like there’s no tomorrow

if that’s what it takes

and then

you get up       

Get      

Up

big girl

get off the floor

it won’t let you stay there

hope

kicks

you

when you need it

reminds you

it is the thing

with feathers

and wings that sing

your truth to you

when you’ve forgotten

how to fly        

Copyright 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Inspired by my all time favorite poem by Emily Dickinson, “Hope” is the thing with feathers.