The photographs on a wall
are a memory
and they become
everything you ever were.
When the key falls
and the hidden wires struck
you are transported in time
the song is a walk in a field.
There is a time for rain—
the greenest plants
burrow their roots
for the coming of footfalls.
One hears in oceans
the great passage of whales.
They are moving
as if God rode upon their tails.
The fog that clouds hills;
the hands that shape breath—
Your eyes are clinging
to the gentle Gabilan slopes.
It is deep winter and the crows
have taken to foraging.
You keep them and the moon quiet
as you unlock your parents’ storehouse.
About the Poet
Samuel Salerno’s work has appeared in various publications including The Wayfarer, Gyroscope Review, Free Verse, The Catamaran Literary Review, Kindred, and Grey Sparrow Press. Sam lives on the central coast of California where he was raised. He is a musician and teacher.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
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