vince gullaci Poems

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

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

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

I'd love to remain
as God
made me
who knows
...

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
...

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

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

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