Untitled in Blue To P by Gabriella Garofalo

Image / Andreea Ch

Untitled in Blue To P

Why do you keep the clouds?

Trash them out, darkness has an expiry date, 

And Spring got it wrong, no flowers, no clouds, 

Hardly a shivering blue, night and her heaps

Of scattered stars, when sham seasons loom over souls,

Words, skies, and survival comes in handy-

Same old story, you know, but what’s that,

No free food for souls, just those tenants 

Of the underwood, clouds in God’s eyes, 

Waves, and a different life if she wheezes 

Among slant words, so very young, so naive

When mixing up stars and shadows,

Or leaping in fear into seasons, and  trees- 

And ambos, alarms, lost bits all left in the dark,

No need for maps or rhumbs, just snatch her up, 

Yes, light, and you, moon, don’t screw around, 

Leave them alone, rooms, streets, hidden places, 

Play the game if she says blue will see to it, 

Giving you shelter if you freeze from the cold-

Drop dead, shadows, on the border of her soul,

As the briars of her blue are growing,

And no, the skies won’t fall down

Among scantily-clad girls, half-naked men 

Wrestling in the heat,

Or songs she rescued from water- See? Just like Moses.

© Gabriella Garofalo

Gabriella Garofalo

Born in Italy some decades ago, Gabriella Garofalo fell in love with the English language at six, started writing poems (in Italian) at six, and is the author of these books: Lo sguardo di Orfeo, L’inverno di vetro, Di altre stelle polari, Casa di erba, Blue Branches, Blue Soul, and After The Blue Rush.

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