*
it’s an afterward
moving
.
this of giving poetry
a way
.
to talk about the beauty
lingering
.
unseen
sensitivity shining
.
bright
in our darker days
.
when we
think there’s little
.
to be seen
.
.
This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02, on sale now for the Holiday Season. Check it out
!
*
stand always
at the beginning of things
.
keep that attitude
as your compass in life
.
you are never at the
end it will never be
.
the end of the world
but always for us
.
the beginning
of anything new
.
.
This poem is in the first volume of “California Notebooks”.
To get your own copy click here
.
*
it seems some days
that the sun moves
at a faster speed
.
it raises for a kiss
as I get a cup of coffee
and let the cat out
.
I see them playing
together in the shiny
grass birds may
.
join too as I give
shape to new poetry
typing away
.
suddenly it taps
on the backyard for
a sad goodbye
.
as I sit speechless
.
My book California Notebook 02 is on a promo sale on Amazon with a huge discount if you click on this link:
California Notebooks 02 (Bilingual Edition: English and Italian) https://amzn.eu/d/4Q2sSdH
*
waiting for me to stop
to jump on me
poetry leans inside
a fountain
I can drink from it
when I stop
.
.
*
waiting for me to stop
to jump on me
poetry leans inside
a fountain
I can drink from it
when I stop
.
.
*
I feel the suffering
of my own body
the struggle yet
.
feeling not fighting
.
allows serenity
to surge to grow rich
in pain to rise up
,
*
I delight in getting lost
in the space within me
.
when I am reminded
of it by my patient soul
.
.
*
I walk around my
small land where trees
abound and I have
a restlessness this year
I never had as if
my garden and I have lost
communication
.
but I attend the land a lot
.
I sit waiting as at
the bed of a sick child to
whom nobody hands
water exhausted
I tighten my hands one
with the other in
silent pain I look down
.
to the aging skin
to the black rim under
my nails its dirt
sticking to me my garden’s
way to hold onto me
.
.
*
it takes care
to inquire of oneself
going down
inside in total silence
one step at
a time on imaginary
staircases
.
*
rustling the rusted
leaves run the ground
the rain of the dead
becomes the soft sound
of the lower wind
rearranging the streets
of an early autumn
.
*
I notice the silence
.
not anymore the chirping
or the chatter of the wind
.
I notice the hummingbird
trying stillness by furious
.
flapping I stop engaging
myself I let go of my eyes
.
frantic grasping of letters
on a page putting the book
.
down where it was letting
my head as beheaded
.
falling too
.
.
Poem from the bilingual book California Notebook available for you also online.
*
it is a revelation
not one cicada
sounds the same
a butterfly sitting
by me admiring
something I lose
myself on such lightness
I use to tell children
to stop and to listen to
the songs of
butterflies as
they nodded back
This poem, written in 2014, is from the collection California Notebooks 01, click on the title if interested in your own copy.
*
when poetry comes
as a soft gliding
over my feelings
searching to appease
me a gentle caress
.
.
*
sharp the tree
branches
against the winter
sky black
a naked dance in
the brisk air
.
.
*
they the shards of ice
laying on water
don’t move nor dance
they lay still there
as the ducks try a piroette
other then gliding
.
.
annamosca 