April 2020
Bio Note: I play with words on page and stage, and love to articulate the rings of meaning I see when I throw pebbles
into the pond of life—food, family, friends, nature.
Winter’s Last Full Moon, March 9, 2020
Winter’s last full moon
leapt out from the horizon
last night jumping over
a line of clouds
to pause, caught
between the stick fingers
of my neighbor’s birch.
I stood, a while,
jacket buttoned,
scarf wound tight,
camera in hand,
basking in his silver light,
savoring the closeness
of his favor,
wondering if he, like me,
was pondering the reality
of this as last
rising between leafless branches.
When next I would stand
to watch him,
those birch trees would be awash
in leaves, waving green across
his silver face, in a warm
breeze that will ripple
through my hatless hair
tug at my jacketless arms—
by his next visit it will be spring
Yellow Symphony
Our yellow daffodils
are spread out over their
patch in our yard,
ever more each year.
Yellow trumpets sound
a silent symphony in
spring’s soft lips
announcing
a triumph of old bulbs
of life reformed
from deep within the ground
to cover the dry brown
patches with new color,
new life.
©2020 Joan Leotta
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It is very important. -JL