*
it’s the tenderness
of the sky
laying his shroud
over me
in the morning that
opens my eyes
to gratitude
glimpses of love
peeking through
as little drops left
after the rain
on the heads
of grass blades
.
.
.
.
This poem is part of the newly published collection California Notebooks Vol. 02
.
.
*
it’s part of nature
to wait it took me
a long time to get
it to taste the truth
of such statement
beauty of flowers
starts in the cycle
the seed growing
in darkness eyeing
the sky smiling to
the breeze falling
asleep at night so
many times until
it’s fall come in
time that is a
repeat that
is patience at his best
.
.
.
.
.
*
it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery
as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay
where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder
when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds
.
.
.
.
4.
at times when I plant
basil such a delicate plant
I’ve to be careful to synchronize
my breath while I gently press
the dirt around as when
words sprout on paper
.
.
.
.
After Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
.
3.
just as bunny rabbits
at dusk poems show up
and while you stand
with your mouth open or
an enchanted smile
they rush away
.
.
.
.
After Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
.
2.
sometimes you are just
walking minding your own
business when something almost
invisible floats in front of you
usually a bit on the side not exactly
in front you need to pay attention
and gently pick the poem
out of the air
.
.
.
.
After Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
.
1.
there are times when
a poem you read doesn’t
make any sense where
you suddenly realize how
nice it is to be lost
.
.
.
.
.
After Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
.
.
*
a road to nowhere
days spent habits piling
up where the sky
.
still shines and showers
.
light stopping thoughts
in your own steps
you wish home to be anywhere
.
.
.
.
.
.
*
awe rising with
me in the
early morning
snow covering
the tall mountains
in the desert
three days
of rain almost
continuous
a rare sound
tip tapping
on the skylights
winter holds it’s
own rhythm
lacking patience
to stay longer
.
.
.
.
.
*
it takes but
a few days for
the white layer
on the mountains
to melt at their feet
back to bare skin
.
.
.
.
.
*
I remember well
the route of the skies
I may be on clouds
.
as you said
.
I may not need
to tread on soiled
divorced paths
.
the air is thin above
and the view is fine
I wish my wings back
.
.
.
.
This poem written in 2013 was published here on 22 January 2014 https://annamosca.com/2014/01/22/california-notebooks-dec-2013-4/ and is now part of the Collection “Silent”.
.
.
*
I’ve been sleeping
light lately as
a restless person
going in and out
from one room
into another mirrors
everywhere as I
searched for my
breath the metronome
of my temporary
existence
.
.
.
.
*
the volume of the sky
above me and the land
stretching from my feet
.
.
.
.
Coming Soon!
.
This poem – from the newly finished collection California Notebooks 02 – is dedicated to my dear friend Anna Maria who just stepped into everlasting life after much suffering due to cancer.
*
being there
one day
where the sound
of butterflies wings
could be heard
stretched on a smile
attentive to my
body changes
on the awe of gratitude
cracking away
a bit at a time
to deeper life
.
.
Questa poesia – tratta dalla nuovissima collezione California Notebooks 02 – è dedicata alla cara, dolcissima, amica Anna Maria, appena passata a vita migliore dopo una lunga sofferenza dovuta al cancro.
.
*
esserci
un giorno
dove il suono delle
ali delle farfalle
può essere ascoltato
disteso su un sorriso
vigile ai mutamenti
del mio corpo
stupore della gratitudine
mi incrino un poco
alla volta a vita
più profonda
.
.
.
*
when my words
surfacing out of
poetry define
who am I
I cry
I also
rejoice and
stand still as
if suspended
all at the same
exact
time holding
that tiny particle
of truth inside me
that shining in spite
of me
.
.
,
,
,
