Tag Archives: writing

Black Rim

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*

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

.

.

The New Territory

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the new territory

I found myself on

.

this not knowing

all I could know

.

waiting long days

molding thoughts

.

making the dark

ones captive

.

feeling your body

changing under

your finger tips

.

February 1st 2022

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as I contemplate

morning light peaking

through cold mornings

.

it’s the sound of the wind

running low on the streets

that gets my attention

.

getting distracted

following fast

moving

.

dried leaves

rustling through

disappearing

.

as dawn catches

up with me

behind my back

.

Here It comes

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Enjoy the visual art work as well

*

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

.

Anna Mosca, Self Portrait, Dec. 2021.

On Tenderness – Dec.2021

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where did my soul go

she’s hurt and offended

she’s hiding from me

from others I will go now

looking for her I will

walk long step after step

until the blood pumps

until the heart awakens

until my legs hurt no more

until I could hear my soul’s

voice calling me out to be

taken softly in my arms

.

If I could

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if I could just scan

the soil and the earth

looking for ghosts

.

lingering

.

looking for

someone they pretend

they lost

.

taking time

.

while we blindly go

continuing our lives

.