De(e)p-ression De-funk

I haven't thought

of hollyhocks

in quite some time,

nor roses.

Stone flowers

gray my landscape—hard,

the way the light isn’t light anymore,
but an intrusion, an offense,
to the dark soil of my seedling,

nursing safe, until color is ready to form,
replacing stone,

crumbling statues,

bleak memorials of times past,
headstones of a previous life—

to reach, to grow,

to topple them,

with leaves and stem

and oh, the most glorious bloom.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

The Great Stone Church 
Photo © 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Resurgam

Resurgam “I Shall Rise Again”

Mission San Juan Capistrano

Photo © 2016 Jennifer Wagner

At Ricardo’s

our hostess tells us

the swallows do return yearly

from Argentina,

though most nest at the hospital

now it’s the highest building.

They don’t tell you that—over there,

she quips, with a smirk and a nod

toward Mission San Juan Capistrano

and the ruins of The Great Stone Church.

Funny she reveals it to us here,

sitting in its shadow,

netting foot traffic

from history and legend.

But I appreciate candor,

cool and featherless—like me,

here in the shadows, post-quake,

growing less blind and

getting ready to rise again.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Note:  In 1806 The Great Stone Church at Mission San Juan Capistrano was completed.  It was devastated by an earthquake in 1812.  Migrating cliff swallows from Argentina return yearly in March to use the exposed eaves of the ruins and surrounding areas to nest until October. 

(Almost) Eighteen

The years have worn us,

like sea glass,

two broken pieces

tossed together

against stone and wave—

and, here we are now,

smoother, more luminous,

and

better

than we were

for the tumbling.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

For Ian

Celebrating 18 years with my husband in a few days.  Happy Anniversary, man of my dreams!