The Robin In Holly

is this mist living silver
drifting weakly in these distant greening fields
searching for itself
hoping to find its way
back to her creation her
and the mist settles
and a branch heavy with berries moves
a robin bouncing low
in holly

JPPestana
The Robin In the Holly
3.3.2020

Line By Line

crow frozen in cornrows sway

slowly lift in the rawboned wind

line by crooked line they leave

wind their way through the dusty fragments

specks of a sunless day

he hums whistles sings crazily

the shouting wind grins joins in

as one they listen to the gathering husks

stalks silk

remnants of men

telling stories

without

end

Line By Line
JP Pestana
2.25.2020

Crossing the I

in this otherwise soundless hour
under the hum of the crumbling bridge
take me away to the daring racing clouds
the far off finish line
of our whispered
lives

Crossing the I
JPPestana
2.16.2020

Songbird

buried deep in the troubled

most tangled brambles

threatened loudly unexpectedly

by the deeper scratches proud welts

of time

a faint song from a tiny heart bleeding

carries him along in the wind

for a moment he soars a smile unforced

he believes this is all too small for him in light

of a wintering withering sun

he listens for a songbird feather falling in

a field of feathers

by now he is certain

there is nothing left

for him to

become

Songbird
2.9.2019
JPPestana

Echo of Wings


in a splash of air
pleasure of her longing echoes
these evergreens deepening shadows
of these fragile snows fall
to their
knees

she is the last singer of new truths
unknown to men
forgotten by gods
and hand in hand
her trees own me between snow
as ash

and I am nothing but a brittle shadow
seen only by
a flight of birds
in the pounding echo
of their
rhythmic
wings


JP Pestana
Echo of Wings
1.31.2020

Between the Lines

in the dustiest of hard corners
in the tenderest of loneliest places
in the intersection of weeping blameless hearts
where the skyless sea shares nothing with me
circle the memories vivid and dim
forgiving and unforgiving
erase all traces of what you came to be
let the faintest shadows escape
to the saving place of shadows embracing
in the space of what might have been
but never was

JPPestana
Between the Lines
1.29.2020

JP Pestana <jppestana1@gmail.com>	9:32 AM (0 minutes ago)
to me

 Summons

when the wind beckons

he becomes leaf torn

from a branchless tree

searching the founding skies

and an answer 

buried only in the 

sounds of wind 

and her 

summoning

glow

jppestana

Summons

1.5.2020