Somewhere in the City was a hoop of steel
With a tattered net of strings;
On a battered board weathered by time
Where young boys flirted with visions of rings.
An old ball, weathered and smooth,
Cover scuffed by the concrete street;
Yet pumped up for a lively bounce,
Teases those who dare to compete.
She’d stopped counting the weeks and months
the stingy calendar doled out. Diminished
by tears, her anguish had dimmed some,
feelings that had raged like rain-swelled rapids,
about how he enlisted, leaving her and children
like orphans. Recruiters had pumped him
with speeches and patriotic songs, pretty
girls and liquor. But he would learn, verse
by daily verse, the gospel of war she’d taken
on testimony and faith—that war makes
a terrible mistress, tempting men with glory
and glamour, but feeding them empty bellies,
weary bones, bloody memories and mangled
bodies, and if fate chose them, a ticket home
with traumatized minds or missing limbs.
chooses her favorite gift.
Bright red roses,
the smell of spring,
although snowing. Continue reading True Valentine – Poem by Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Melissa is happy reading a good book
rather than watching television.
Hours spent on the couch, feet up, sipping tea,
a favorite pastime.
She closes the book and looks out the window.
Birds are nesting and chirping a soothing tune.
Another year has come and gone and a new one just begun.
We completed another circuit around our brilliant Sun.
As we reflect on how we fared this year,
Let’s also pause to consider what each of our relationships to us mean.
There are people that we value for their wisdom and insight,
And others who will stand by us in any righteous fight.
There are those we know through love, through friendship, and through tears,
And those with whom we work or worship or were classmates through the years.
Crisp autumn air
Silver and copper
The entire landscape
The deepest splendour
for she has swallowed
All the colours and
The setting sun
The gold and the orange
The molten core
Sienna and the umber
The cool clouds,
Bright and royal purple sky.
The formidable sea
SHE! The Restless Streak
We came to America without a clue
When November rolled around and Thanksgiving, too
Stories of pilgrims sailing in hope
The Mayflower and Plymouth Rock – Who knew!
Photo credit: Greg Semendinger/NYPDT
On the day after, we walked from downtown,
from our apartment to 14th Street to catch a train
to Penn Station, but the subway was closed.
Most streets were glutted with silence, empty
of the usual yellow cabs with their impatient horns,
and people, except for one block just east of here.