Eye To Eye

when you shade your eyes

from all of me

you blind me

from me

leave me in this mapless imploring place

a meadow of regret spreading over 

this piece of warmly turned earth

it is the kiss you give a 

gift of deep motionless sleep that 

I awaken in your garden of 

marbled stars shadowy trees 

vines of moonlight draped in 

our tangled past obscuring 

everything spoken

but never 

said

JPPestana

Eye To Eye

2.6.2022

 Pigeons and Squirrels

no more than a row of broken 

clocks alarming and others echo 

electronic impatiently wait

can you see if the clouds have broken through 

the sun it is an easy enough question

they seem fragile tense of late

the clocks go off tell the truest time

of dust and loss

walls begin to close in

or already closed

no one seems to know

the sins written on the kitchen wall

join in stand on their own they are

a proud confession

outside the city squints pigeons

and squirrels fly

stop here don't walk seconds tick

his vices clamor it is the amber he fears

not the sudden red or steady green

he leaves a memory senseless 

crippled hanging on for dear life

he is shameless maybe less 

in front of him a mumbling man stumbles

a too brief recitation on 

the street of flesh

and bone

JPPestana

Pigeons and Squirrels

2.4. 2022

 

Flying Into the Sun

 

it only takes one thing

one verse one song one kiss

for a heart to be reborn

 reveal its all 

his story is glorious

the song man plays it again and again on a dark guitar

in a darker hall to no one in particular

looking back at the accidental start

the way things sometimes begin

breathing deeply together hand in

hand they feel the pleasure

of its first easy beats

flying into the sun

pulsing waves of raven taken from the ages

stolen from some other poem

playfully celebrate

in the only way

they know

JPPestana

Flying Into the Sun

2..2.2022

 

 

JPPestana

Flying Into the Sun

2..2.2022

 

A Wind Continued

I must owe her a dozen 

                   somethings or more

likely more 

                  a rhyme in which her 

                                                    forgiveness 

                                                           cascading

                                                                

becomes 

the perfect flower of 

the perfect day of 

the perfect spring 

when my martyrdom (such as it is) 

goes unnoticed 

when the mercy of her 

is heard perfectly

in a wind

continued

JPPestana

A Wind Continued

2.2.2022

 

I Untitled (revised)

 

the meaning of you

your world

or any other thing

or world

is easy enough to find

they say search high and low

maybe carry a ladder if you choose to go

a shovel if you will

yet no need to climb or crawl or dig

hidden in the open by children for you to see

meaning is almost always in the in-between

like an island flooded

a blizzard of lashing waves

the agony the scream between river and surging sea

this is where you will likely find

the why of I

and the who

of me

JPPestana

I Untitled

1.29.2022

The Sofa

burgundy I think

soft hugely inhuman cushions faded

stained with holes and tears

it was left the sofa burgundy I speak of

in a somewhat sunny spot by the side of

a way out of way country road close

to the mottled shade of osage honey locust willow

decorated with blossoms oranges green morning dew

it sits by itself 

trapped in a raptor's fixed stare

was I then sitting alone frozen in time

comfortably inhuman

holding the sky in one hand

a book of cloud in the other

and wondering

where now

to put

the

sun

JPPestana

The Sofa

1.26.2022

1Jill Pestana

 Two Towns

chickens thin barely scratch at 

a grassless yard

its migrant shack on last legs toils on for no reason

leans into the cotton wind off exhausted fields 

down the road the tilted graves iron rails rusted sign 

are resigned to the dateless death of the place 

there is no now in the granite and slate

on what remains of main street 

the queen of two towns still reigns

shows herself at the one light blinking

her ghostly so with a tiny sign held up to 

the too few cars

the circus was here in '66 

she rode in sequins stood astride two dappled grays

she was the Queen of Arabia famous 

in a losing one ring circus 

she stayed became a wife married 

to hard times

shamelessly the clowns went on being clowns

two towns merged  to one

then a nameless none

america

 

JPPestana

Two Towns

1.26.2022