La Luna Di Donne Sagge (The Moon Of Wise Women) Poem by Romella Kitchens

Purple Clematis flowers on the vines.
It is 'Little Italy'.

A woman walks a tiny dog at midnight
in a park up the street from her home.

The moon is large above them.
It shifts as if playing bocci in the clouds.

Her family passing but her faith in
a good future still there in her soul's
palms, in her prayers and lamentations.

She sleeps little at night - reads the news
in Italian even though this is America.

And, she is beautiful inside like stars,
clouds, nebulae.

The dog sits on the bench next to her observing
stars with her in a vast night sky of possibilities.

She steadies her brown, nicked cane and stands.
Her auburn, short curls rustled by a breeze.
The dog and she will walk home now...
One cutie orange left in her brown paper bag.
The coffee of nighttime vigil awaiting her.
Her left hip strains against her olive jacket but
is good.
The dog and she smile.
The perimeters of life expanded.
The momentary gift of perfect night sky,
their fortune.