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Streets of New York are three thousand miles away and I am
It’s amazing how imagination can take me back and forthacross country without taking a single step.Seeing skyscrapers towering over the street, smelling thearoma of heated pretzels and fried bread making my mouthwater.Looking again, desert landscapes of Phoenix fill my heartwith cheer as I survive in this beautiful desert city.Aroma of heated pretzels and fried bread…
Shattering glass memories with
Resting in our beds of lace onfinal days of misery, we areshowered with bouquets of roses,falling like fragile petals upona frozen ground of snow whiteflakes from heaven’s gardens.
Silent mountain nights with reflections of a full moon shining toward the sky in a pool of water.
Trekking down the trail, looking at the most beautiful ebony night, catching my eye.Shadows following me into the past, helping me to belong in a place where strangers can’t continue to be.
Writing amidst confusion, relating self to a deep contemplation,
Consoling my heart, touching my mind with whispers of heaven sentstraight to my soul.Filling every atom with hopes to continue in directions towardsshores of tomorrow, awaiting my time to alight upon them in mylittle rowboat of life.Sustaining wisdom in the palms of my mind, taking care not to spilla drop, because I’ll need every particle…
Remembering Bound Brook, New Jersey, my very own Mayberry, R.F.D.
Living with my Grandmother, parents, Aunts and Uncles we had a happy time together.Grandma was from Mierto, Sicily and spoke broken English.When I was one she became an American citizen and forbid speaking Italian any more and I struggled at that young age to learn English.When starting school, I wouldn’t talk and had a hard…
Scurrilous people think I’m an easy mark, that they can control me in some way.
Being my own person, free, independent, smart, walking away to take my lonesome journey without anyone forcing themselves upon me.