My Grandmother’s eyes

In the mirror there I can’t see myself.  I see my grandmother’ eyes looking back at me  and remember how I made them cry. She is the strongest person I know  and in one mad moment, thinking of myself  I made her weep. I was distracted worrying about overweight baggage  and departure times  I forgot…

Sicilian DNA

Poetry is and will always be my first love. My poems come from my dreams, imagination and emotions. They appear in my mind unexpectedly. An idea comes in a phrase or an image that keeps repeating itself. Something will pester me to the point I cannot ignore. I write it down and it leaves my…