You Are whispers of pale gold gliding over my skinspots of a fawn landing on mushroom capssighs from blue whales a thousand miles away You Are kindness of a prayer floating up to Godlaughter of a child standing in a paintinga wooden barrel full of Eastertide’s flowers You Are promises dancing on ruby colors of…
Category: memories
The cliffs of moher
leaves of many colors mingle to dispersea steaming bowl of porridge to feed the craving earthrain turns directions, as limestone clenches sea flowersour love flying with the peregrine falcons by the cliffs of moherusing night writing, molds of movement, on the blanket we once did share
I Find You
you are there swooning on the tinge of the gardenia scenton the lime green-eyed wing of a Luna moth tattered and spentresounding within the impassionate vibration of the newborn’s crywhen you pray for the window weeper as she tarries and lets out a sigh I find you in the glimpse of dewdrops like notes…
Butterflies Bloom
tonight I whisperto the scarthat lolls uponmy shoulderyou are but amere fragmentof my flesh covering youwith star dustyour powerseveredonly an artlessreminder oferas past petals weavelove on frayedtraces of griefhummingbirdskiss my templeslove emergesa butterfly she flies awaydistance windssing her nameoh creatureof peacecome nowlet me love you
Sunday’s Hay Field
sadness is a raw wound wrapped in bandagesliving in the thought of a picnic without dancing antsa family carrying a basket with lost Sundays and sandwiches listening to the radio, pretending to dancebitter the old man who can no longer stand to eat corntoothless, he remembers the river swallowing a closing glance his son,…
Without An Anchor At Sea
tethered to you, my darling, like a fragile marionettesilk strings made from worms gathering their blue emotionslonging for an overdue petrichor, I yearn for a divine cloud burstmy anchor, yet your strength vacillates floating, sending me out to seastill, after all these years, you do not identify with my mournful delicate marrowjoyful, gardenia scented summer…
Cleansing Rain
blood drips from my heartmy silk gown grows thornsblinded by yellow from the start drowning in my own skinflowers grow from fingersa vase of emotions growing thin angry at God, I fall downanother day lily dies slowtears become an ocean of sound my cart is deep with painbrands of scentless sorrownaked, I await the cleansing…
Our Smells
tease me slowly, for now, awake I smell your nighttime sweatmingling with our lovemaking, aromas catching my body wethumidity plays a role in the dampness of our pearly pleasuresleepy eyes open, alive, we are now each other’s sated treasure
Live on Spillwords “Spotlight on Writers – Joni Caggiano”
I am honored to be interviewed on Spillwords NYC. If you like my work and are curious about my life please visit the link above. If you enjoyed learning more about what makes me tick, please show me some love by clicking on the little heart. To see my author page on Spillwords NYC click…