CLAUDIA PICCINNO

CLAUDIA PICCINNO

I

A stone sphinx

If even in this moment of connection

You decided to go away

I would understand..

If I kept writing

with harassing pen,

and this fact would harm you, I would stop.

If a microbe drags you away

on other shores

where interlocutors are not allowed,

as a stone sphinx I would become a wall.

New words are falling down as raindrops

without any sense,

in order to measure this emptiness

that speaks outstandingly

waiting for a verse.

II

I got lost in fear

not a milestone

to give me the direction of travel.

I waited at the crossroads

that you go back

candidly

with your doubts

and your reasons.

I looked to the sides

of the roadway

looking for a path

or a shortcut.

Nothing led me

at the arrival point,

nobody took me

by hand,

each of mine  steps

follow the rules

of the good way,

make arrangements

to the others

like violin's horsehair

and wait for the right vibration

the sound of a beat

that will take me home.

III

My say on this obituary

is no needed

better would express a stone

rolled

in the pit.

Each stone a thought

Each thought  a name

Each name  a cross.

Leaf, stone, scissors

To tell, to do, to kiss

Look at me father.

Do not call me.

Let me live

again seasons of joy.

May I live blue mornings

and pick a poppy to

lay at your feet.

Let the bells ring

in celebration,

may I sing the song

of cicadas

may I come back

as a seagull on the Bosporus

as a swallow in the sun.

Look at me, don't pronounce

for now my name.

CLAUDIA PICCINNO