Tag Archives: anna mosca

Growing

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with poems I color

my emotions of new hues

stretch the perimeters

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grasp a dreamed story

giving it legitimacy

the gifts are shared

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my soul’s eyes scan

the air around of me

the breath of God

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the most soft of nests

I am watching myself

growing with as I create

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Can You See

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right in the middle

someone turned off

—— my light

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since I have this feeling

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of disconnect

of not getting what’s going on

of abiding dark

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can you see please

what

I am going through

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Kind Words

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what if I told you

to send me water

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as everyone is

busy sending me light

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may healing come

without parching

in a bath of light

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as well as sipping

in all the water

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I need to stand

tall once more

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Hospital Time

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in silence

is solace

is healing

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in silence

sleeps comes

taking me places

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while my healing

is weaved inside

my wounded body

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silence is planning

my next steps to

warn off the enemy

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that came inside

as shift as a thief

the cancerous cells

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The Great Unknown

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the great unknown

isn’t death I fear

to do harm to my body

this I fear indeed

to make poor choices

given what others say

not to discern my best

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yet surrender

like a fish’s body in

stormy waters.

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⁃ for what I know

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that may be safe

to let the invisible pull me

while trusting fate

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Light

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approaching the day
with dancing
thoughts

to linger in god’s
presence
light

that stays with me
at night
and in my slumber

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hipstamaticphoto-536258305.451797-1

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This poem is part of the published collection California Notebooks 02

Quattro

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Sundays Posts are for Italian Poetry once a month.

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quattro alberi

per modo di dire

quattro passi

per descrivere la fuga

quattro parole

scritte come mappa

io piegata in quattro

per non perdere

i miei sentimenti

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Here It comes

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Enjoy the visual art work as well

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here it comes

the first poem of the year

right as the sun

hides low

behind the houses’ roofs

darkness

falls as a wet blanket

piercing

through my winter coat

a soft sound

cracking

on the frozen grass little

cautious

steps as it advances

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Anna Mosca, Self Portrait, Dec. 2021.

A River Pouring from California Notebooks

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a river pouring
you are not rushing

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to me poetry flows
out is hard to contain

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I’ve no hands for that use
I’ve new eyes to embrace

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strong legs clasped around
it’s an odd place wonderful

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to be tell me what is
new today with you

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