« Pam Pignataro »



Trapped Between New York And Hoboken

Where night is never dark,
she wears a string of emeralds
around her narrow throat.
One sparkling snowflake at a time
lands on her silky skin,
melting into depths no one knows-
none can plumb the bottom
of her longing to succumb
to restless tides that take her
running from bright lights
to where the fallow dark
waits to hold her in its arms,
respite from her useless clash
against the walls of cities
that strive to keep her out.
She tries to overrun her banks,
back to the hearts of men
bonded to the seas.
Beneath the sludge of toxic dreams,
her silver gown reflects
only fullest moons. Only
at the western sun she smiles.



Pam Pignataro lives in upstate NY with her two no-longer-children and too many pets. She does most of her writing during a long commute to NYC, where she works as a nurse.




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