| Written by Fr. Pier Giorio di Cicco,
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Views : 765  |
they’re comin for me.
they’re not gonna come and get me.
they’re not getting me again, these little demons.
they come and gnaw at the furniture of my legs,
they come and gnaw at the empty rooms of
my heart. they gnaw and want what?
what do they want?
my head my skull my arms,
my teeth.
what is it they hanker for, what is they don’t have in
whatever part of the world they lumber in,
what is it they don’t have, what is
it they don’t have that I must toss to them
a scrap of meat to make them worthwhile in
God’s insistence.
banish them.
banish them with a word, banish them with a little
finger poised over a bluebell, over a flower,
banish them with my hand over a child’s head.
banish them; look, they are gone from the garden,
where I have planted an ideal that will grow to hope,
to sun-hood,
in grace,
a little laurel of seasons.
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Fr. Pier Giorio Di Cicco |
| About the author: |
| Fr. Pier Giorgio DiCicco, a priest of the Archdiocese of Toronto, has authored 17 books of poetry. He was born in Italy, raised in Montreal, Boston and Toronto and has taught at the University of Toronto. He is currently Poet Laureate of the City of Toronto. His poetry is published by The Mansfield Press
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