Saturday, July 6, 2013


We change hair style
as our body stretches out
to fill  space beyond itself;
the eyes, a new stare
the stand, a new silhoutte
the moment, a chance
to reach new horizons
escape this body
just even  for one day.

Each comedy a variation
of the previous one.
Mistaken identity.
Reversal of roles.
A male not a male.
A sister pretending to be her lost brother.
A poor playing at being rich.
Each escaping the space he occupies.
Each giving the audience hope for the price of the ticket.

We leave marks
with what we do,
the promises we keep
the words we choose
the things we buy.

We scribble on tablets
scratch notes on violins
sounds and signs etched in dark caves
with infinite entrances and exits
that once
in the fog
you recognized us.


  1. Each stanza of the poem stands on its own .. at the same time, connected. As we are. 'Once in the fog you recognized us' is an amazing line .. perfect exit line.

  2. def you capture a bit of the journey of life in this...the marks we leave along the way...we do, without even noticing...and the trying to escape our identity even for a bit...part of that is the struggle in finding what life has for us....the brief recognition in the end of 'we were here' once...

  3. Loved every line Rosaria! Beautiful! Amazing!

  4. I love the trajectory your poem describes. I think that's what makes us human somewhat, the desire to leave marks behind us, whether unconsciously or not. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  5. That’s the way life is, I guess.

  6. We witness and are witnessed, and this is what drives us, I think. Even witnessing our own self is a practice in unfolding mystery. Thanks for opening these thoughts.

  7. "Do you know me?" is a song title that came up one morning as I opened this page. It started like that, a line in a song, a tune in the wind. I thought of how many times we hear children yell out, "Watch me, Mommy!" when they're about to do something.

  8. We want to be witnessed, to be seen and valued.

  9. OH, intriguing! We do leave marks, by what we do and do not, say and say not, feel and feel not. Just as the waters leave different patterns on the shores as they move in and out.


    Blessings and Bear hugs!
    Bears Noting
    Life in the Urban Forest (poetry)