Since discovering that “alito” means “breath” in Italian,
I’ve wondered how you say “one-breath poetry” in that
language. As I have never studied the language of my
ancestors, I can only guess: “poesia di un alito.” Help
from readers would be appreciated.
Meanwhile, enjoy a few one-breath poems
from Lee Gurga:
morning calm . . .
heavy with frost the leaves
continue to fall
darkness before dawn–
the way your legs sleep
not closed not open
first snow–
the little boy laughing
in his sleep
television light
flickers on my children’s faces —
autumn sunset
(Brooks Books, 1998)
from last November:
even lovelier
naked
backyard elm
potluck
Easy choice: Right now, there is a blue sky outside the
bay-window of my home office, with bright sunshine
illuminating the remaining golden leaves on surrounding
trees. I could write a few blurbs on lawyerly or political
issues, or I could go outside right now, and enjoy this
aumtumn day before the early sunset arrives. Well?
While strolling along the Mohawk River, I’ll perhaps
have a haiku inspiration to bring home for dagosan.
If you really need some commentary to keep you busy
until you can leave your office, check out the RiskProf‘s
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