….Face to face in the shuddering bed,
we share the night’s hurting, surrender
to the betrayal of time, wondering
for what ill deeds this punishment comes,
meted out by whatever gods amuse themselves
with human pain, as winter waves
her dubious goodbye, slow and inaudible
as the ache of drifting snow.
–excerpt from “Arthritis” by Donna Pucciani, in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn (Virtual Artists Collective 2011). First published in Pinyon Poetry.