Beach Bon Mot

“Whales,” a driftwood message
etched into sand
exposed by low tide
loudly pronounces.

Passersby marvel at
the spectacle of mother humpback
and her frisky calf
as they breach and blow
just beyond rocky shore.

Outside protected cove,
the disturbed ocean boils.
Migrating leviathans
spout umbrella spume,
lift giant fins, smirking grins,
roll above curling surf.

By Jennifer Lagier

Driftwood spells 'Whales' on beach
 


The author, Jennifer LagierJennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle), Forthcoming: Like a B Movie (FutureCycle Press, 2018).Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.

Spring Rainstorm

Silver/white sky presses down
on wind-blown almonds,
wrings dripping leaves.

Light shifts from menacing charcoal
to acute golden clarity,
then opaque gray again.

Agitated sparrows, voracious jays
feed upon drowning earthworms
as they writhe from wet ground.

Torn bits of storm-shredded ash trees
litter flooded sidewalk, form an
extemporaneous mosaic upon sodden lawn.

By Jennifer Lagier

azalea and almond trees in the rain


The author, Jennifer LagierJennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle), Forthcoming: Like a B Movie (FutureCycle Press, 2018).Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.

Waterbearer

Honeybees gather,
cluster at the end of a garden hose,
buzz along edges of wet spill.
as I water mom’s flowers.

They are without jobs,
bored and unemployed
now that almond orchard
blooming season is over.

I am out of my element,
paying another’s bills,
tending a yard not mine
while I comfort my dying mother.

Like me, agitated drones have
been reassigned to unfamiliar tasks,
unsettled by abrupt change of mission,
normal routines disrupted.

By Jennifer Lagier

Be on pink flower


The author, Jennifer LagierJennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle), Forthcoming: Like a B Movie (FutureCycle Press, 2018).Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.

Slanting Cypress

Cypress goliaths
tilt in arrested topple,
border winding trail,
separate ceanothus and oxalis
from wave sculpted beach.

Sunrise illuminates
textured trunks,
splayed boughs,
etches crone limbs
in ethereal gold.

Ravens flap,
settle upon curved branches,
telegraph morning gossip,
curse trespassers who disrupt
their ebony covens.

Harpies within tormented trees
offer raspy predictions:
coming turbulence,
contused thunderheads,
battering deluge.

By Jennifer Lagier

Monterey cypress leaning toward morning sun


The author, Jennifer LagierJennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle), Forthcoming: Like a B Movie (FutureCycle Press, 2018).Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.

Moonshine

Darkness devours lavender dusk.
Glowing moon ascends,
hangs between ragged limbs.

Silver paints budding willows,
emerging lupine; spanning wetland pond—
a refracted gold trail.

Gentle song of crooning owl
harmonizes with whispering percussion,
muffled boom of incoming surf.

A spooked cloud of squeaking bats
pass before blinking stars, lunar orb,
punctuate the night air.

By Jennifer Lagier

full moon shining above trees


The author, Jennifer LagierJennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle), Forthcoming: Like a B Movie (FutureCycle Press, 2018).Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.