Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Poetry of Loss, #3

I have officially stopped traveling to Wishland  
with its ribbonned packages 
and smells of favorite fluff
like anise biscotti
and steamy coffee mugs, and creamy concoctions
created for my pleasure. 

I now wake with a hunger that has no name
for that rare occurrence
when the earth tilts on its axis
and the firmament goes back
 to the day its orbit
smiled on us.

Perhaps a snow day would suffice.  

*snow is a rare occurrence on these shores 


  1. Be careful what you wish for, dear Rosaria!!

  2. this is a very poignant and painful poem, rosaria. i wonder if the two are ever completely separated.

    "I now wake with a hunger that has no name"))) love and recognition.


  3. Reading this, I am struck with absolute devastation as I recognize so perfectly what I also long for. Will someone just set this universe back how I once thought it would always be?

  4. I ache for you to be consoled; I wish I could find adequate words to write and I wish that it would snow for you...