LIGHT AND FIRE

LIGHT and FIRE

Midnight – I stand alone -
eyes bleed, flashes of
fire corrupt sight. . .
Limbs stiff - as if dragged
in time on frozen earth –
yet blistering skin.

Eyes stare – heads tilt, as
if to question a silence
inside my head - a strange
ringing – growing stronger,
my train of thought
degenerates.

No sound heard, or has one
been to taste fire on their
lips – beyond a crossing
upward near a mountains
peak. And, feel skin turn
cold, and pain disappears.

A distant ball of light
explodes – now few are
chosen to observe –
only those to hear
strange sounds of voiceless
chatter.

A space where earth opens,
- time stands still –
a world of many moons, and
darkness roars beyond a mere
flashing light.

Someone - will find me in this
forest.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

Love on the Run

You must have frightened
me – since I never knew
love – moving closer
as feet slithered over grass
like a snake
slipping on cement,
too close
tripping over a curb
a car screeching
too close

tires scaring pavement
felt a strangers hug
hearing church bells ring
at twelve o’clock
while people stared:
it was how I left you

too real
love - crippled love
I try not to count the years
when I learned -
what it was - I left
on grass
when cars swerved
church bells rang
telling me
what a heart knew.

I Never Knew
I Knew You


I never knew I
knew you, so
many years ago,
I loved you -
never - knew why?

We met – I sipped
coffee - surround
by gray marble
pretending to be
reading – knew
you glanced my
way.

I hated coffee,
but all the people
working in a cement
building with marble
walls, drank coffee
purchased
from a blind man –
I learned to like
coffee, then – when
I glanced up –
holding a white
paper cup – when
you walked by

our eyes met –
you stayed
I always wondered
why?

A sweet smell
of summer, a
morning - in July.
A certain kindness
in your face,
a gentleness,
showed as you
grinned – a safe
place to begin.

I never knew
I knew you,
so many years ago
I loved you -
but we said good bye.

I never knew
where you went,
or who you loved –
I often thought
our paths may
cross –
one more time.
Your red car –
Ice cream sundaes
Beer near a small
town where you lived,
where you knew the
owner – where you
held my hand – and
still smiled – even
without coffee -
I pass the bar –
now and then – it’s
too gone -

I always knew
your white house -
been years since
you left home –

I never knew
I knew you,
so many years ago
I loved you –
and I never knew why?

When someone tells
me they don’t drink
coffee – a smile comes
to my face – I see cold
marble walls and recall
the blind man handing
me my first cup of
coffee, to be like all the
others. . .

For a moment you
returned to say hello -
then I pour some
coffee – and for a
moment, I see that
foolish grin.

Nancy Duci Denofio
All Rights Reserved

Published in “The Muse” and
offered in the issue to others for critique;
as you will notice, this is not my style of
writing, but it was something, one day,
that just came to be…

Educated Plaster

Educated - not
by choice
drilling holes
without plaster
robbing innocence
stealing clean
white paper –
squeezing it
into a ball…
it's garbage.

Educated.
Encouraging self,
unwatched
it disappears
like a candle -
neglected
scaring a
surface
unable to repair
deep rooted burns.

Re-educate
the failure…
foundations crack…
block by block
cement the basement…
without strength
foundations
crumble
as plaster
beneath papered walls.

Nancy Denofio - 1992
published MUSE
all rights reserved

From The Shoreline

Twilight seeps
in shades of gray...
I open a sliding
door,
inhale fresh air
taste salt water
on lips,
with hope,
I'll see him...

His dark hair blows
freely in wind,
at times, I dream he
gazes toward me...
it's a wind,
pushing him...
He bends forward
collecting treasures
from a shoreline,
his tan excites me...

Fog thicker beyond
a sandbar where he
runs...
blending with an ocean
wave,
a tide claims him,
I've yet to see him
after that...

Nancy Duci Denofio
All Rights Reserved