Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Marigolds 


What if, you are not the potter 

and 

i am not your clay?

what if ,

we could just roll around in marigolds

and laugh

at how the sun bounces off each other’s eyelashes,

clap our hands over our own mouths

feel God’s breath rush through us 

like seashells outside a cottage where the  little glass beads chime

do you think the flowers will sing with us 

if

 

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

6 comments

      • Oh how cool is that! I’d love to see the tree! I was just looking at how the sun was reflecting on some leaves and wondering how the coke can that I left on the table got into the middle of the yard, which animal took it there. I need to not leave my door open. One day I will have a fox in my face. I’m glad seeing the tree made you think of me

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