Thursday, April 14, 2016

Sevenling (In that Dream)


image source

In that dream, I had all day and more
in the lavender field, sunlight speckling
my arms, my legs, the straw hat sheltering my face.

It was one I'd never worn before,
but you were there, sunny, honeyed
and yellowing all my purple darkness,

as it always should have been.


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner



This was written for De's dVerse Meeting the Bar: the Sevenling. I was unable to post it in time so I'll be linking it to dVerse OLN.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Calling the Game


Like Pudge.
Like Bench.

Like Yogi.

Opening Day
on the glistening green

shimmering
diamond,

with dirt under his nails

he scoops
the ball
from his mitt,

tosses back to the ace,

crouches,
gives signal,
waits

for the curve

of his smile,
and spits

o - u - t.


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner



Opening Day 2016. Go M's!
photo © 2016 Jennifer Wagner


A Quadrille poem for dVerse. Exactly 44 words (title excluded), including the word “shimmer” (or variant as I've used here).


Friday, April 1, 2016

Like Spent Cherry Blossoms


Milling about
the door,

while the garden lights
were swaying

and the moon was high,

this poem
found itself

arriving,

sweet spices
on rainpetal skin

from spring's unfurling trees.

And what was I to do, little poem?

Of course, I swept you in.



© 2016 Jennifer Wagner



Happy National Poetry Month! :-)

dVerse OLN
 

Thursday, March 24, 2016

March 20


Everything I saw that day
reminded me of another.

Two daisies in a glass bowl.
A discarded coffee cup (Starbucks).
Red spray paint, lipstick, a little bit of blood.

Never mind the window
speckled with mint green rain.

I wanted to lick it
but that would have been inappropriate.
Undignified. Quite.

But, since I've already
lost my mind a time or two. . .
more than that even. . .

What of it?
A mind is an easy thing to lose.
Don't even get me started on hearts.
That's another poem.

This one is about
my tongue licking mint green rain
and never you mind
I saw pumpkins and gourds on a March day,
orange and round, warty and yellow.

There's nothing to it.
I see what I want to see these days.

And afterwards I started jumping
because I determined
that's what you do.

And then you eat yellow daisies
or daffodils, if that's what you can find,
and you can, because it's March
and the Ides have passed.

You made it.
No one sticking it to you
this time, Caesar.

And death,
she's your friend,
but not today.

No, not today.



© 2016 Jennifer Wagner


OK, I went a bit wacky maybe, but I've been reading Ray Bradbury's Zen in the Art of Writing. So yeah, Happy Spring! :-)

Daffodils are poisonous, though daisies are edible, so please, don't actually eat!

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Memorial Stones


Image URI: http://mrg.bz/URIXxH

He's gathering up,
one by one, and placing,
the memorial stones.
I can hear it
all through the house.

I press my palm
to the door,
feel his heartbeat
in sobs calling out
from the other side--

ruins beautiful
for the remembering,

and whisper
a mother's prayer
for grief too big
for these hands alone.


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner