Tag Archives: childhood memories


As a child, I, the Yankee from Jersey,

would visit Betty, my aunt and godmother

in New Orleans, for summers drenched

in mosquitoes and melted popsicles.

Unlike my mother, she let me run

barefoot . . .

–Excerpt from “Backscratcher” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Penniless Press.



I often visited them when I was a child,

those families with a cabin on a lake,

amazed that people could have two houses,

one for winter, one for summer, people

who annually moved from one to the other

the way I changed shoes for sandals.

–excerpt from “Envy” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective/Purple Flag, 2015). First published in After Hours.