Saturday, November 8, 2014

Dear Misery,


I miss you.  I really do.
You were always there
ready to make merry,
happy as a shitfaced clown
on Saturday afternoon.

But back to niceties,
you played the fiddle
and I danced
to your tormented tune

like a
jilted wife
waiting for another truth.

Is that dancing?
Hell, yes.
You should see my shoes,
all tapped out, so to speak.

I love you.  Come back.
Though there’s nothing left here
for you except

a .22.



© 2014 Jennifer Wagner


My more sensitive readers may not appreciate my strong language in this one, and I hope I haven’t lost you, but sometimes, you have to get ugly when you’re fighting monstersthere’s beauty in it...

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Dirge


I suppose we never really
see a thing
until it’s done.

The scrutiny
of yesterday
through the 20/20
of backwashed tears.

But could we?
Could we
see it coming

before a bell rings out
our sons & daughters
died today?

Before we are
wearing red to remember.

Before they are
beautiful & lost
at fourteen forever.


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner



Of course many know about the tragedy at Marysville-Pilchuck High School on October 24.  We live about 30 minutes away and some of my family live in Marysville, so this hits really close to home.  My fourteen-year-old son’s football team wear MP stickers with 10.24.14 on their helmets and students have been wearing red and white (MP High School colors) in support for this grieving community.  So sad, so tragic, so young.  Prayers for them for healing and light

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Hunting Season



The leaves in silent fire
are mellowing,
a cool, crisp blaze
before the frost—
the last cracKle, pOp
before Old Man Winter
grays us with his beard.

We watch
as orange and white
petals of autumn suns
l           i           n          g                      e                                  r
like paper lanterns,
and then
the current
rolls them on—

I snuggle in
close beside you,
sip roasted dandelion tea
dripped with honey in the cup,
and on my tongue—

hoping you
track the scent
and catch me

mid-fall.


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner