2 AM

Waking shadows 
Bring us to a place where we look back
And know we can never return....


While the sky rains voices 
Of those who are falling dancing in the
Colors of the lost....


We stand where children sang


Their small footprints 


All around....


poem of farewells
Foggia ghetto
8/31/20

This is the place

This is the place
Where the end fell into itself

We were there as it looked back toward us
With our empty bells and our souls
Burning in the hills

We arrived in a boat made by a quivering child

Everything fallen out of our mirrors

As we taste the first days

And the last….

The place
Foggia ghetto
18july20

In the rain just now

In the rain just now
Before dawn….

The smallest stones filled with moonlight
Dim their lamps….

Each morning
The same singing
Hangs from the trees where the owls sleep….

Soft songs melting through the leaves

The fragile leaves….

Hidden among the death masks….
The still open hands holding
A wind…

Over which a nightmare I have dreamt all my life

Is sounding….

The songs
Foggia italy
29jan2020

In the rain just now

In the rain just now
Before dusk…

The smallest stones on the shoreline light their lamps….

Every morning the same songs unsung
Hang from the trees where the owls sleep….

Soft songs melting through the leaves

The fragile leaves….

Hiding among the death masks
The still open hands….

Over which a song I have dreamt all my life

Is sounding….

The songs
Foggia italy
April 27.19

healers

healers

these ones have been

                                             here before
double eyelids

burnt light

                    on their roughened hands…

fingernail moon
foggia, southern Italy
august 11, 2013

IMG_5546IMG_5547IMG_5548

©2013 Lance Henson (poem)

©2013 Barbara Bartlett (images)