Joni Caggiano’s poetry always touches me, so I decided to share it.
shooting pain lurches like a stranger in the blackest night
where monsters live releasing their copies, swarming past, out of sight
jealousy walks on rugged stones stealing from the gifted
holding hands of small cactus plants until the desert sands are shifted
behind their peering eyes a Judas runs to throw a stone
whiffs of his betrayal, climbing to the top of the field, I hear his moan
To continue reading this piece and many others please go to I Write Her/The Short of It with Susi Bocks.