A Lavish Goodbye

Photo from the last October I spent in WA before moving to AZ

© Jennifer Wagner

 

She crumples herself

around my feet

and under my shoes.

 

Curls herself in smoke offerings

of cedar, birch

against the blue.

 

Wet tingles my skin.

Crisp, clear

she drapes me in the richest of hues.

 

Who am I, who am I

to enjoy such beautiful parting?

 

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner

I've Been Here Before

Sometimes

I lose my way

 

Sometimes

I figure out how to stand up for myself

 

Sometimes

I weigh out the evidence

and find the truth is still elusive

 

I’ve lived here for more than 50 years

you’d think I’d be used to the terrain

 

But still

my humanness

is carried in your holster

or propped up and sighted in

 

waiting for me to tip and turn

the wrong way

my breast fully exposed

in the barrel’s sights

 

What will you see this time

Your open shot

or that I am

 

lonely and imperfect

same as you

 

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner