Pam Pignataro

Only Reflections

Reflections in train windows,
mirrored by darkness,
reveal only selves that we
pretend to be-no one knows
what lies behind faces worn
for show-

what fears may travel, hidden,
on rusted rails that one were dreams,
what tears fill stony beds
of long-dried streams where hope
ran out of time, what love remains
unspent-

we are just shadows, here,
blank imprints of real lives
spun around these wheels,
somewhere within the dark
that turns us all to mere
reflections.



Clearing Land

A prehistoric skeleton
sprawls on someone’s lawn-
with massive spine, and limbs
now blunted, fingerless.

It lays there mute; its rings
hold tales of times long past,
when the earth was theirs,
one vast forest wilderness.

People gather to decide
how best to move it, hide
the evidence of what
they’ve done.


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.

 Current Issue:
October 2007

Melinda Blount
Frank DeCanio
Bobbi Dykema
Taylor Graham
John Grey
Don Kloss
Alicia Matheny
Pam Pignataro
Jeremy Rich
Bill Roberts
Bethany Rountree
Tom Sheehan
Kelsey Upward

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