• Lammergeier Staff

Two Poems | Sara Moore Wagner

Because I Think with You, Maybe I Can

I learned at fifteen that you can’t walk around

all day shoeless and wild haired, can’t look in

a crack in the mountain and see the scorpions

swirling like a tongue. It isn’t your place to ask

God where he lives, whether in you or in those

hills, my mama said as she looped her crochet

hook through the eyes, securing those tiny threads

over each button of the corset on that dress

she bought me to walk down the aisle to you.

And I do, dress all white and taffeta, festooned

with gold beaded flowers. I am my own landscape.

I am walking down the aisle to you, my mother

with her hand firm on my elbow and she is saying

walk, girl—this is what you’ve been built for.

Never mind the pain at the heal, the blister

forming and bursting, how there’s a pool

of blood on that baby pink paper aisle my mother

laid herself. How the sun beats down like

a flyswatter. How the hills are humming,

the lake is humming. It’s our song, it’s our bridal

suite, and I’m here before you. Ready. You’re standing

so still in the suit your father bought you, with your

hair so neat, but I see it in your eyes, the whole

sky. The whole entire sky.

Damselfly Nymph

In the morning, hear me

clack against your deck door,

greenly jeweled, wide eyed,

I want you to dance with me,

body me, mate me, house me,

let me in. I’m cryptic,

camouflaged, open

your arms, show me

your decorated chest, queen

anne’s lacy pores, patches

of teasel—marshy, invite

me to stay with you here,

on top of you, flickering

these thin flames, these wings,

vestigial structures. I’m not using

my body for anything

but this. With this wide,

wet mouth, I’ll predator,

I’ll catch you, show you

the blue tip of my smile:

I’ll get you, roost

in the thick of you,

feed you a ripe cherry

from the bottom

of my throat, a nuptial

gift, and you’re mine.

Sara Moore Wagner lives in West Chester, OH with her husband and three small children. She is the recipient of a 2019 Sustainable Arts Foundation award, and the author of the chapbook Hooked Through (Five Oaks Press, 2017). Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in many journals including Waxwing, The Cincinnati Review, Tar River Poetry, Harpur Palate, Western Humanities Review, and Nimrod, among others. She has been nominated for a Pushcart prize, and Best of the Net.

Twitter: @Saramoorewagne1

Facebook: Sara Moore Wagner

Personal Website: www.saramoorewagner.com

Read more about these poems in our Featured Poet interview with Sara here!