vince gullaci Poems

I missed the rain
but the metaphorical hit
between the eyes
left me reeling
...

I'm tired,
more tired
of myself
than anything
...

I'll bring a brioche
with coffee dear
what would you like
with the brioche
...

Persimmon trees
are bugiardi
they flower again
out of season
...

The end of the dream
and into the nightmare
sideshow distortions
and Edvard Munch screams
...

I'm not the man
you thought
I could be
I fell way short
...

Dealing with knowledge
of life's shortage
and the omnipresent
threat of dying
...

While the red gums bloom
the honeyeaters
quarantine my garden
from other bird species
...

Such a brilliant
sun blessed
fluke of nature
we find ourselves
...

The morning light
of the new dawn
cracking through the blinds
gives me great hope
...