Snow Covered Meadow

Snow covered meadow,


Invisible animals

The only signs of life.

How peaceful is winter’s blanket

From behind frosted window pane.

Harshness tempered by modernity

Heat, Wisp of steam

Floral scent of herbal tea filling the air.

Thankful to be witnessing

Beauty and cruelty,

From the comfort of home.


.~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Home…where is it,

Everywhere, nowhere, our place of birth?

We can separate,

Travel far from where our roots were sown,

But those roots lie buried;

Dormant like the bear in winter

Only to sprout when we return some spring.

There is nothing like home!

We change, it changes

Yet beyond our differences we are the same.

Our blood flows red

Its earth flows brown, rich and enriching;

Drawing us back together

Like long lost brothers,

Like brothers who have never known each other,

Separated at birth then reunited as if never apart.

How strange it is this dichotomous relationship.

Tied together by eons, we deny our love,

Claiming separation while trapped in bondage.

Tell me…where is home?

It is in the filth, the change, the death of all we hold dear,

It is in what no one else can understand,

What flows through our veins, what feeds our souls,

What we will take to the grave when we die.

Home is who we are

Where we grew up no matter how distasteful,

A part of us, like our hearts and minds,

Something we will hate and cherish

Until our breath comes no more.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

What is the Measure of a Man’s Life

What is the measure of a man’s life,

I don’t know but for myself.

Money never bought me happiness;

At least none that lasted more than a brief moment.

Cars…I’ve had many,

Exciting when shiny and new,

But their luster is lost over time as is their value.

I do not live in a palace,

It is modest to say the least and more than I need.

Retirement savings are but a dream,

I will likely work until I am called home.

With all this…what is the measure of my life?

It is family, my wife and children,

Their love for me as I love them.

It is the sun that rises overhead

And the life-giving rains that fall,

It is everything that nature provides.

It is living in harmony with the natural world,

Not fighting it or conquering it.

Yes, there is bad mixed with the good,

Pain and suffering mixed with the ecstasy,

But at the end of my days,

This will be the measure of this man.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


A Dot On The Map

A dot on the map,

Another town with an odd name,

A place people pass through,

Ignored on their way somewhere else.

This was years ago;

O’ the town is still there,

But gone is its charm.

Gone are the things I loved most about it,

Gone are the wonderful pines

Standing tall next to Beal’s Hardware Store.

Gone is the pure cedar creek,

Gone are the open spaces,

Gone are the mom and pop stores dotting Main Street,

Gone are quaint family owned restaurants,

Gone is Porcellini’s Farm Market and Nursery,

Gone is Armand’s Auto Body,

Gone is Duffy’s Yacht Bar,

Gone is the wildlife preserve,

Gone are the wetlands,

Gone is the egret,

Gone are the scenic views unless you can afford them,

Gone are the commercial fishermen and clammers,

Their way of life is dying.

The pines have been bulldozed for Walmart,

Beal’s shuttered because they couldn’t compete with Home Depot,

Porcellini’s wilted and blew away

Armand passed and no one wanted to take up his fight

Duffy’s dried up under the pressure of Applebee’s,

A beautiful way of life was strangled and buried,

Caving in under the weight of corporations.

They don’t care about us…profits are their only friend.

We see it happen everyday,

In small towns all across America.

Towns founded on long time local businesses

Bankrupt because they can’t compete.

Local people forced to settle for less and pay more.

Some say, “If they don’t come here they will just go somewhere else”.

“What about the jobs?”

What about them?

Maybe you would have to commute to work,

But at least our town would still be–our town,

A place we would be proud to call home.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Poetry Prompt #2 –  The Places We Are  by We Drink Because We’re Poets

A Hero’s Welcome

Homecoming celebration November 12, 2012 Ft. Carson, Colorado Springs, Colorado

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Welcome home,

To you and the 300 like you.


So long gone,

So many tears and worries it drew.


Now you are back,

Safe and warm in your nations arms.


Tears of joy,

Thankful you are away from terrors harm.


You left a boy,

But came back as a man.


Proud and strong,

A country grateful that you took a stand.


You’ve given freely,

Putting your life in harm’s way.


A willing volunteer,

On guard and ready to save the day.


You are a soldier,

Out of sight, but not out of mind.


We welcome you home,

With open arms, warm and wide and kind.


You are our son,

A mother and father’s pride and joy.


Grown into a hero,

No more a little boy.

In honor of our son’s return from a 9 month deployment in Afghanistan on November 12, 2012.  Welcome home son, we are so proud of you.  

Please remember those brave men and women proudly serving our nation and give thanks that they have volunteered to protect us.

Weary Traveler

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Awaking bleary eyed I wipe the sleep from my bloodshot eyes,

Sensing my solitude, I reached for you but you are not there,

The faintest sliver of light passes between the hastily drawn curtains,

Revealing my bed, damp and crumpled and void of you.


Out of utter concern I rose, suddenly unfamiliar with my surroundings,

The feel of carpet under foot was in no way comforting,

Stubbing a toe on the nightstand I cried out in pain and for you!

But there was no reply to my labored pleading.


I’m suddenly alert from the throbbing and solemnity,

The weakest of smiles takes root on my unshaven face,

As unfamiliarity gives way to focus I slump incredulously at the beds edge,

Muttering under my breath, I must travel less and get more sleep.