A feature on Wise Women’s Web These poems are from Daniela’s forthcoming book GOING ON: Poems: 2000 Via Folios @Purdue University, Box 1374 Lafayette IN.47902-1374 E-mail VIA1990@aol.com Telephone orders at Small Press Distribution:1-800-869-7553. _______ To order other books at bn.com by |
Daniela Gioseffi
The Young Girl who chattered without stopping leaps in my heart. She is lost among the lizards. When she broke her glass hair ribbon all the shops in heaven closed their doors. In the silence of the streets I hear a sad voice mature and flowering coming from a nearby alley, warning me. I place my hand over my mouth where the three silk stitches of her cry smother drily. Morning Fawn She stands on his mossy hill, child of the wild deer— sniffs rain in the wind. Summer’s newly born in her. She whispered awake, stood on nimble legs to hear earth’s first damp song. If her belly were not full of hunger, he wouldn’t see her and raise his gun. I want only to admire her. He wants to kill, skin, eat her, devour her fawny flesh, possess her so completely that she becomes him. Some strange masculine will I can’t fathom reels in his sadistic urge— too close to passion. He sees a wild animal, and thinks of grabbing his gun. The doe-eyed fawn, above on the hill, stands on green moss unaware of his desire to kill. I’d give more than I care to say to save her. I want to win acceptance in her eyes, touch her velvet head with silent hand, let her go caressed for all time, light with will in my mind beyond this hill. Shadow Grinning at me in the mirror of the window this morning came a shadow with teeth. The same one who tonight comes as the sun sets— bringing in its warm hands a bouquet of orchids each with a throat singing plaintively, and from each throat shines a wet eye imploring, “We are your dreams; why haven’t you lived us?” But my lips are too wrinkled to answer with song, and so the shadow stands before me bereft with her offering. And so we celebrate and grieve the gifts we are given always in transiency forever a mystery to ourselves as we learn who we are by measuring our lost dreams until dreaming is done and the sun finally sinks beyond the curve of Earth our only Mother who must devour us to let new shadows, carriers of flowers, live. ![]() |
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