Tag Archives: Nancy Diamante Bonazzoli

Your Child Doesn’t Know You

She knows the word DaDa… picks you out in photos, but she doesn’t see you. You, enfolding your only child in arms alive with fatherhood— not. When I look long into the roaring silence of the sea I tend to … Continue reading

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Swinging

The swing’s rotted cradle now a darkened beetle den; one thick molded rope still hangs, knotted long, like the life I get to live. What I didn’t know then was that we are each given only this, our temporary life— … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 3 Comments