Friday, September 1, 2017


Maria Miraglia


You spend hours days
whole pieces of your existence
without actually living them
may be at times
you notice the passing time
looking at your reflected image
seizing  of it the tired expressions
the puckers at the corners
of your mouth
and wrinkles on the forehead

It’s pain
the deep one
penetrating your
like thousands blades
that awakens you to life
that tells you exist and
makes you rediscover feelings and emotions
lying hidden
in the limbo of your soul
it too drowsy
as drugged by the never ending succession
of the human deeds

You know the moon rises
when the sun sets
the seasons come and go
but you can't perceive their fragrances
their changing colors
the flavor of the air
biting or muddy
until those thin blades lacerete
not a single part of your body
but your whole being
It's then you feel life
and of it can capture
lights and shadows

It's  pain like the tolling of bells in celebration
that wakens in you
the sense of things


It is a late afternoon
the weather rainy
the windows closed
for the wind outside
the thunder rumbling loudly
shake me from the slumber

The radio is on
playing old songs
while a veil of melancholy
sweetly touches my heart
the boredom makes me wander around the house
lonely at this hour of the day

Listlessly I sit at the desk
and my gaze falls
on a drawer
since long closed
I feel a sudden urge
of rummaging inside
where small objects
papers and old photos
are grouped with care
a folded letter is there too
as waiting for someone
to look inside

It is a poem
a love poem
a poem of some time before
I read it and then
again and again
while some tears begin
slowly flowing down my face


Thinking of that
I hear the doorbell ringing
and quickly
wipe my tears
and go to open


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