In The Heart Of The Night Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

Your name forms a mist
rising circuitously above
in silence and then falling
changing into raindrops.

Something prideful cuts
creating tiny heartaches,
like the past of a lost soul
whose song is still heard.

Quickly, quickly, heed
those refrains, stored
growing in your heart
like springs hyacinths

Earth’s large wheel of life
rolls on its moist thick rim
of forgetfulness, slicing time
into inaccessible half hours

Your inebriated soul spills
onto the cold wet ground
Like blue tipsy poor men
Flying to the wind’s voice