The Curiosity

A blue flower grew through a worn fence to see if

I was true to myself.

If I knew what I was. Or,

more importantly, what

I was meant to be.

JP Pestana

9/8/2021

The Orange

today I peeled an orange more perfect

than I ever deserved

tasted it with tightly closed eyes

there are angels here someone shouts out

heavens gates are open waiting

in the shimmer light spreads unevenly

deeply in huddled roses

in the blur wretch of pain

a taste of her many small deaths

lingers in the salt

of one choking

burning

tear

JP Pestana

The Orange

7.28.2021

Sunday Drive

the sycamore's quiet embrace surprises 

maybe nothing more but the deep shade shadows

limbs over limbs little street close below 

this is nowhere in particular everywhere

a piece of someone's dream many dreams

insects misting to bits of cloud

soft slap of rhythmic flags

a mostly whole sky

from somewhere the solemn march of men

in pressed white shirts proceeds

they sing in Italian sing of weddings love death

point the way to a sun clawing

at a cold and waiting heaven

JPPestana

Sunday Drive

6.15.2021

The Red Gate

what does the bullfrog know

when the wind spins so green so vast so certain

in its existence

when it grasps at the edges 

of the secret pond  

its black clouds carelessly skimming

reeds bending to their knees

broken leaves trapped in thick mud

the deep throated frog calls in echoes to me

I look away 

in the distance 

the red gate remains 

as it always 

was

jppestana

The Red Gate

5.18.2021

 

A Break From Rain

for a fraction

the rain hesitates

before her a splinter of light purifies 

drenches a patch of her comfortable earth

catching her attentions I am no longer

laughing she spins invisible  races away 

from the pursuing 

rays

jppestana

A Break From Rain

4.25.2021

 

Being

today my hand was larger than the sun

my eyes ever closer hidden from it circle the words

closest to you  

somehow in an instant you sing the words 

to every song ever written ever sung

listen to the repetitions of shy skittish birds 

the sudden movement of each leaf before 

the brightening breeze

before 

life 

itself

jppestana

Being 

4.9.2021

Shunned

out of nowhere

this concentration of us

shun one another too easily

long days progress to nothingness

unrepentant we walk heads bowed through the chill

earliest of springs

ache of tired branches

you say the daffodils aside the thin road are courageous foolish to show themselves now

I don't know daffodils

only the spikes of sunny yellow

piercing the stony silence cowardice

hard ground

of my lost

thoughts

jppestana

Shunned

March 20, 2021