Only because

At night the Dipper is empty,

holding nothing but a void

of stars.

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

Always

The pearled emptiness

of a winter sky brings

the kind of contemplation

unimaginable . . .

–Excerpt from “Always” in EDGES by Donna Pucciani. First published in

After Hours.

The Cranes

Fifty or a hundred commas

gather in the sky as if

they do not know to what sentence

they currently belong, and,

lacking syntax, wander so high

as to be almost invisible.

–excerpt from “The Cranes” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag, 2015). First published in Soundings East.

Storm, with Fruit

. . . Storms roll in from the south,

and warnings blink by the minute,

tracking a plum-blood sky. . . .

–excerpt from “Storm, with Fruit” in Hanging Like Hope on the Equinox by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective, Chicago 2013). First published in Gihon River Review.

Cruising Altitude 35,000 Feet

. . . The cabin is stuffy, but above the fresh Atlantic blue,

I assent to the pressurized promise of air, typing up

my tired hair with the ribboned either,

becoming mauve and umber between magazines

and  litter of small white pillows.

–excerpt from “Cruising Altitude 35,000 Feet” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2011). First published in Jabberwock.

SkyView

The radio reports tonight that

Jupiter and Venus will appear

to the right of a three-quarter moon

like little echoes from a big drum,

or crumbs of cheese on the dark

platter of Chicago sky.

–excerpt from “SkyView” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2011). First published in Tipton Poetry Journal.