Category Archives: Journals

Blackbird

. . . That day in the garden we heard

a bell-throated birdsong bounding

through the courtyard from St. Thomas’ Church,

a song so sharp it obliterated even the groan

of his wheelchair inching down the graveled path .

–Excerpt from “Blackbird” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Wichita Falls Literary and Arts Review.

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Espresso

You wait for me

before sun-up,

black orchid blooming

in a small white cup,

bittersweet tongue

tasting mine.

–Excerpt from “Espresso” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Italian Americana.

Always

. . . But what is there

to be sad about? The moon

will wax orange, the trees

glow golden, and berries

pop their crimson heads out

for one last look before snow.

–Excerpt from “Always” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016).

Always

the same sadness,

those Indian Summer days

bringing a rush of heat

and the final moisture

of flower and leaf.

–Excerpt from “Always” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016).

Waiting for Crickets

. . . one of you will be out there

singing your loud courtship

with open wings, then

falling asleep in your lover’s arms,

making your little night music

in the midnight void.

–Excerpt from “Waiting for Crickets” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Off the Coast.

Vigil

I awoke at 3 a.m. last night,

hoping to see the Perseid meteor shower

dance across the August sky

like ballerinas in celestial tutus.

–Excerpt from “Vigil” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in After Hours.

Summer it seems

is over —

children back to school,

leaves dropping careless

on the lawn, roses laced

with Japanese beetles.

Petunias nod

in their sad pots . . .

–Excerpt from “Summer it seems” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Chaffin Journal.