Poems of Joe Bisicchia
|1.||Children of God||10/3/2013|
|3.||Each to our own device||8/2/2013|
|5.||Grandma’s Hard Of Hearing||1/30/2014|
|6.||Let us read each other||7/29/2013|
|10.||Upon the honeysuckle||6/7/2013|
I have a name. Hear it thunder.
It rumbles across the stone symbols,
so many steeples, and it leaps spire to spire
farther and higher, across the many roofs, the wires,
maybe understood only by a beloved dove,
for of that flier I did dream, maybe by Grace
to be worthy so to protect what all children should love.