Thirty years ago, a woman
stood at the kitchen window
looking out at a cluster of sparrows
and barbed wire. Her hands
were floury with the day’s labors,
her heart heavy with hidden lives, lies,
the deaths of swimmers in the canal
at the hands of soldiers who used to be
her neighbors’ children . . .
–excerpt from “Red Canal” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag 2015). First published in Colere, also The Wonderbook of Poetry and shutterverse2.wordpress.com with photography by X Woods.