In an apartment in St. Paul, a man stands in the window, looking east. Red rays and dawn’s rosy fingers spread across a sky whose message is nothing …but possibility. Black birds swirl in unison as if the undulating air were two lovers on which they rode; up and down, on and off… One can…
Author: Anthony Signorelli
A Woman and The Eagles
The dawn is broken and you are up. There you sit, pajamas draped delicately on your body, the simple joy of your smile filling the cavern between us. We have yet to touch; perhaps we never will. All I have is to stand at this edge, call your name, and wait for the empty echo’s…
Spiritual Quest
I imagine you on a mountain top overlooking the ocean wondering how far a thought can swim, or even, why it would want to. Who am I? and What do I mean? You lean back against the tree, your spiritual antenna tuned to God, receiving messages from the Buddha’s great meditation. You thought they came…
Trump’s Washington
Black sand-swirls sweep up the siren sound of sanity; The dark king shrinks into the small hands loyalty offers. Why? Because the birds will not light, nor the cat crouch; cherry trees do not blossom, and children say the grass is not green. Only the loyal hands are steady; that’s because they have no eyes…