sleepwalking at 4 am,
or calling people who’ve gone to bed
to tell them how he’s feeling.
I dream these hours, fits of swallowing ground,
a pile beside a gaping hole
I’ve dug enough to throw me into,
prostrate on his withering bones.
Tell me if he bleeds beneath his thorny crown,
his stations never making him a god,
I know he suffers for his litany of sins,
I carry crosses he no longer can.
Rose Aiello Morales has been writing poetry almost from the time she knew what poetry was. When she was seven her poem "God" appeared in the Boonton, NJ town newspaper. She won second prize in a New Jersey state-wide poetry contest for high school students at 16 with her poem entitled "90." She studied at Rutgers University before moving to Florida and marrying her husband of 34 years, Alex. She then spent time raising her daughter and being a housewife, discovering poetry again in her late 40's.
Since then she has been writing extensively and published in various journals, in Canada, Great Britain, the USA, India, the Philippines, and Indonesia. her blog address is http://roseannemorales.wixsite.com/roseaiellomorales