Thursday, August 29, 2019

Soon: Spiders



Dalí looks at me
from across the room,
time melting as if exhausted
from the heat.

That look: like puppy dog eyes
pleading for a shift in the breeze.

But, no, I say,
don’t do that to me.
The darkness is coming,
so damp and rich I can taste it.

And soon:
spiders.


© 2019 Jennifer Wagner


Reference:  Salvador Dalí's clocks in The Persistence of Memory.

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Morning


When the air is fresh
you feel it:  you get stronger
with each breath.

Your son
is slicing oranges
and it’s so sweet—
he’s so sweet—the scent
of his golden-brown hair
warm with sun.

The old deck creaks a bit
as you walk on it,
cracked and weather worn
as you are,

but still here,
still here.


© 2019 Jennifer Wagner