it sounded like
falling petals
but was only
pieces
of my heart
other writing
these ancient poets
these ancient poets
and their longing
for homes
beyond reach
family friends
only recalled
in memory
carrying a melancholy
at times too deep
to bear
yet able still
to be stunned
by the beauty
of the natural world
around them
these ancient poets
speak to for me
never locked
no key needed
the door
never locked
on my heart
Anna sheds
Anna sheds
her present
like an old
party dress
a size too small
and laces up
her hopes
for the future
stumbling to the end of the month: January and my mother
there are some things
one cannot write about
adequately
words just won’t do
to express
what is in the heart
and January
always eludes me
as I stumble my way
to the end
of the month
remembering you
the hospital
you
Anna twirls
there
in the room
at night
Anna twirls
to music
only she hears
you the heroine
you the heroine
of my dreams
a variation on lines from Lu Lun
what I can wish
is what I can offer
arms still strong
for shelter
in this blowing
wintry world
Anna in repose
naked
in shadow
waiting
for the light
what would my mother say
oreos
coffee spiked
with Baileys
peanut butter
from the jar
my breakfast
what would my mother
say
Leonard Durso 