The Passing

Clouds, grey and foreboding hang heavy as my heart.

This unsculpted field of weeds and stone lays before me,

Watered by tears and sorrow,

Sadness of lost love, loss of cherished companions,

Lives sacrificed to the natural or tragic.

It matters not how or why to this pain so intense,

For with each thought of death the abyss broadens,

Taking miniscule pieces of us beyond.

Flowers once vibrant dry and blacken,

Bowing before their marble master in death.

Refreshed for a time, but soon forgotten,

Left to crumble and scatter in the wind.

Not for lack of caring or sympathy, but resign,

No more to pursue this self-torment and pity.

What good does it do for those passed,

Is not life to be walked amongst the living?

Leaving the dead to their eternal rest;

We will reunite with those beyond our touch,

One day, in the place of our faith,

Joined together in a future unknown.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Flowers By The Road – A Tanka

Flowers by the road

White crosses a reminder

Someones tragedy

Anonymous to strangers

Loved by family and friends

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Demon’s Pawn – A Dark Poem

Echos cascade off these grey stony walls,

Eerie howls toll down shadow darkened halls.

What is the source I would not venture a guess,

Haunting the days into night as it falls.

~

Hearing their cries during every waking hour,

Crimson eyes glare from medieval watch tower.

Diverting away, surely this mustn’t be real,

With cape drawn up tight beneath I do cower.

~

Dashing from the castle to my cottage I must run,

Hoping for arrival before the setting of the sun.

Horrors await those found wandering after dark,

Til vengeance be exacted once the terror has begun.

~

Legend doth tell of the rising of the dead,

Of innocent and guilty who lost their heads.

By creature or demon no one can be sure,

Hide we all did behind locked doors and under beds.

~

Obscured by shadow and cover of the night,

The beast waged it’s terror hidden from sight.

Unsuspecting victims their lives it did take,

Expressions on their faces was one of pure fright.

~

How to defend against one you can’t see,

Nowhere is safe were the cries with mercies plea.

Huddled, crouched and muffled in pure fear,

Imaginations run wild, dear God what can it be.

~

Screams in the distance carried under darkened moon,

Praying for sunrise it can’t come too soon.

As quick as the screams rose they came to an end,

Silence was broken by the song of the oon.

~

The new day awoke no more need to hide,

Slowly, cautiously door unbolted we went outside.

Blood splattered drag marks we were led on our way,

At the horrible sight women fainted, men cried.

~

Hanging from a tree bow with nearly severed head,

Hung the body of a stranger mangled, bloodied and dead.

The demon he had struck in a most savage way,

Stringing up the innocent into thin air he then fled.

~

No footprints nor trace of which way he did leave,

Lowering to the ground for the poor man we did grieve.

Time had passed so quickly as nighttime fast approached,

Picking up the victim for burial we did heave.

~

Laying him to rest for darkness we prepared,

No one spoke a word of the terror that we shared.

Another night of evil behind bolt and hardened doors,

Hoping to survive proving the Lord our God had cared.

~

Have mercy on the traveler that knows not what goes on,

The devil lurking in the woods we’re praying that he’s gone.

For centuries we’ve done the same with always the same answer,

In this land of demon’s folly we are nothing but his pawns.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

With The Coming Of Summer

With the coming of summer

The years midlife begins in earnest.

Infancy is replaced by the maturity of time,

The dead forgotten to the wake of new life,

No more is there the barrenness of winter.

Cold, gray nakedness gives way to colors multitude,

Death’s pungent odor yields to the fragrance of flora,

Rebirth is complete…for a time.

Youthful fauna take comfort in nature’s bounty

Feeding in gluttonous fervor,

Instinctively knowing it is but momentary,

With the scarcity of later year fast approaching.

What a wondrous gift is nature;

Our lives mimicking her cyclic clock,

Stages of life revealed since time began.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Uncomfortable Skin – A Tanka

Uncomfortable skin

Wrapping unknown destiny

Who am I to be

A question answered at death

By looking back at our life

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Hades Screams

Hades screams its torrid winds,

Scorching earth of bone and skin.

Desolate ground of sun bleached sand,

Reminiscent of lunar land.

~

Scrub brush torn from shallow root,

Crushed to dust while under foot.

Watching step for danger lurks,

From thorn and fang and stingers work.

~

Blistering flesh under cloudless sky,

Waterless fools most surely die.

So this goes for man and beast,

It matters not be most or least.

~

Call of hawk and vulture above,

No place for cardinal, sparrow or dove.

Unforgiving this land it takes,

Seizing on each and every mistake.

~

Birds of prey circle and wait,

For nature to inflict a certain fate.

A hearty meal in barren land,

Relying on the feast at hand.

~

Wasteland though it seems to be,

There’s so much more than the eye can see.

It’s beauty lies not in pleasing flowers,

Nor in forests where great pine trees tower.

~

Instead it lies in stark contrast,

To seashores blue landscape so vast.

Inhospitable appearance its enduring charm,

In spite of all potential harm.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Outside

Outside–

You see a face,

Weathered, showing the wear of time,

Wrinkles carved like dry rivers

Affixing character to a once youthful landscape.

~

Soft skin hands, wipe the sweat from the brow,

Long since retired from hard work,

Thin and gnarled,

They are more bone than flesh,

Still their past loveliness remains.

~

Hunched, from the years

And back breaking work

It’s a struggle just to stand up,

Yet there is nary a complaint uttered

Thankful just to have lived.

~

“Come with me”, said in whispered tone,

Taking a frail trembling arm in compliance,

Photographs yellowed, faded show glorious youth,

Beauty, fifty years past gleams brightly in your eyes

Though the blue is less brilliant.

~

“This was me”, as if unrecognizable

Pointing with an arthritic finger

Leading to story upon story.

“You see a face…”, spoken with a smile,

“But I am so much more…”

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Cold Granite – A Haiku

Cold granite headstones

Reminders of what has been

Cherished memories

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

A Full Life

I’ve lived longer than many

And not as long as some.

With each days pass I am thankful,

Thankful for living a full life,

Whether it be one day or one hundred years.

Every life is full,

Perhaps not to those left behind,

But it was to they that lived it.

It was theirs and no others;

Their birth, life and death,

They knew no different .

This was the gift, the time they were given .

Will I have a tomorrow?

I know not the answer,

I do know that what will be will be,

Of that I am certain

And no amount of angst will alter it.

I cannot think of tomorrow

For it may never come.

What I have is here! Is now!

This is the entirety of life

Until the next moment arrives, God willing

And I’m given a little more time to live…

This full life.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Footsteps

Footsteps travel on as far as the eye can see

Side-by-side in lockstep just as straight as straight could be

I followed for a time to see where they would go

After a while only one set remained in the sand it did show

I stopped in amazement as they up and disappeared

What must have happened, something tragic I feared

Turning in circles no steps did depart

They just seemed to stop never returning whence they start

The second set went on at a steady measured pace

Never picking up stride, never seeming to race

I followed for a time the solitary set of prints

Nothing about their direction offered any hints

Where they might be going I hadn’t had a clue

Walking straight and narrow they never veered from true

Feet tired and achy the end it seemed in sight

Time had passed so quickly as day gave in to night

Before the light had faded I saw a chapel up ahead

A tiny cemetery, some benches and a shed

Seated on the bench, a solitary elderly man

With a bouquet of red roses held tightly in his hand

Clearing my throat so not to startle or to scare

I took a seat on his bench and struggled not to stare

Mustering up the courage I asked if he was alone

He responded, no he wasn’t in the gentlest of tones

Looking round and round there was no one else in sight

The story that he told turned me a paler shade of white

He told me that he took this stroll nearly every day

Just he and his loving wife would walk, hold hands and pray

With a smile he continued in a soft and mild tone

That part way through their walk she couldn’t manage alone

He’d pick her up and carry her the rest of their way

Her arms around his neck begging him to stay

Home is where he’d take her and lay her down to rest

Pointing to a tiny grave, he frowned, “I know its not the best”

But I promised her I’d be with her each and every day

We’d been together 60 years I knew no other way

Tonight I told her I’d be home soon never again to leave

The pain was getting far too hard as each evening alone he’d grieve

Patting my hand with trembling legs, hunched over he did stand

Shuffling over to his darling’s grave he placed the roses from his hand

I sat and watched as he walked away ‘til he’d wandered out of sight

Never again did I see the man who endeared me on that night

He’d kept the promise never to leave that he made to his love

His tiny grave, right next to hers, they’re together up above.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~