Recollected

Dolor squeezes through the cracks

of memory–the career that never was,

the shock of suicide. In the blur

of work, food, sleep, we sigh…

–Excerpt from “Recollected” in Donna Pucciani, A Light Dusting of Breath (Chicago: Virtual Artists Collective, 2016).

One minute

…mulched into the void of winter

like stars that die

before they know they’re gone….

–From “One minute…” by Donna Pucciani

First published in Journal of the American Medical Association.

Eclipsed

for Charlottesville

…a corona of humanity

crowned the dark

with flares brighter

than Nazi torches,

ringing the world

with invisible light.

–From “Eclipsed” by Donna Pucciani

First published in Gyroscope Review.

Anniversary Waltz

…We never feared the night,

never even thought of

the blunt forces of darkness….

–From “Anniversary Waltz” by Donna Pucciani

First published in Toasted Cheese.

To Emptiness

This blank page

is my winding sheet,

my living shroud…

From “To Emptiness” by Donna Pucciani.

First published in Journal of the American Medical Association.

Not a Love Song

My love is not like

a red red rose….

–From “Not a Love Song” by Donna Pucciani

First published in North Dakota Quarterly.

What Dreams May Come

…My dreams will net students

wearing casual smiles and reading

Jane Eyre and Cyrano

under duress….

–From “What Dreams May Come” by Donna Pucciani.

First published in Du Page Valley Review.

Arc

Autumn. A rainbow

chases morning fog into the woods….

–From “Arc” by Donna Pucciani.

First published in Current Accounts Magazine.

One minute

the maple leaves abscond

with summer’s green rain

on such little stems

connecting to spring’s essence…

–from “One minute…” by Donna Pucciani.

First published in Journal of the American

Medical Association

Slipping Away

…Like Shrodinger’s cat, you

have tried to be in two places at once,

your loved one simultaneously

dead and alive…

–From “Slipping Away” by Donna Pucciani.

First published in Concho River Review.

Eclipsed

for Charlottesville

…Days earlier, the forces of darkness

took over a small southern town.

But all around,

holding hands, not guns,

a corona of humanity crowned the dark…

–from “Eclipsed” by Donna Pucciani.

First publihed in Gyroscope Review.