“Childless Tents” by Joni Caggiano ©️2025 Now Live on HotelMasticadores

 Childless Tents Kisses like sun dropsdipped in sweet pollen,play youthful cheeksplump with wonder. Faithless somber notesof sorrow yet tarrylost atop the velvet backof an anxious Buckeye. Goldenrod is changingfor Fall calls her new palette,and aging fawns in toastedwoods, seek their lost spots. Funnel spiders dot lawnslike lifeless, white hair-nets perched as childless tentson strands of fading…

“The Crown” by Joni Caggiano ©️2025

The Crown Bougainvillea florets tremble likescarlet ribbons tied in bows on young flesh Archways of stone outstretchreposeful winds on muted statues with listless stares Foreboding leopard keeps vigila silent killer, her sentry will shield if a threat declares Pillars of light bring rays of respite yettears seal her withering heart within flouted ceiling Ferns rest…

“After Rain Skies: The Global Anthology” Available March 8, 2025

I am honored and proud to be included in this new anthology that Michelle Ayon Navajas has curated.  There are more than two dozen talented authors who have contributed to this book with poetry and prose about survival after trauma. Be sure to pick up your copy when it becomes available next week! “I am…

Abused Child and High Price – by Joni Caggiano

Abused Child Featured in Edge of Humanity for World Poetry Day March 21, 2024 ©️ January 2022 High Price also Published in Edge of Humanity (thank you Joelcy Kay) Five new pieces of poetry and prose by Joni in “After Rain Skies – The Global Anthology,” by Michelle Ayon Navajas Abused Child do not presume…

SCALE WITHOUT MEASURE BY JONI CAGGIANO ©️JAN. 4, 2025

In the late fall of the year of the Dragon, the maple trees let slip from memory the task of turning their leaves.  Yellow carotenes did not fill the leaves, bequeathing the desirous soil below with enviable nutrients.  A spiritless sun went into an impervious mourning at such a loss.  Lady bugs with red and…

”Red Ball” Now On Hotel Masticadores

Red Ball Hannah wept silently into her dusty apron.  She spun her thin face around, much like a donut, awaiting its freckling of powdered sugar.  Tears cast their agonies upon hand-stitched hydrangeas, petunias, and magnolias while honeybees clung close with their bulging pollen-laden legs. Ruth had spent six months embroidering this apron for her and…