Author: ps pirro

• Hackberry

  Last night I laid my hands on the elephant skin of the oldest tree in my yard, a hackberry that shaded this house for sixty…

• Attica

  My teacher told me to write about things I knew so I wrote about riding that horse through the hills south of Attica prison in…

• Songbirds at 4 a.m.

  They sing in the dark and who knows why, the moonless night still far from over, you listen for the call of the neighborhood owls…

• Grand Piano

  The world sat down at the grand piano and played the song I wrote all those years ago when I thought I was leaving, before…

• The Storytellers

  They told me in school that an oral tradition was primitive, left to the lesser ones doomed to be conquered, absorbed and assimilated, or just…

• Manta Ray

  The soft white belly of the oceanic manta ray looks like the sky from below, did you know? I learned it today from a writer…

• Venus in Transit

  The newest of new moons was a mere suggestion in the dark when you stepped out last night to see the bright orb of Venus,…

• Montezuma’s Revenge

  Oh but you don’t understand at all he said you will soon but not nearly soon enough the third reich only needed three months to…

• How to Write a Letter

  My handwriting is interesting to look at and often indecipherable says my friend Helen to whom I write a letter on occasion, when I have…

• Brethren

  The beams in this house stood brethren in the hardwood forest co-mingled with the living and the dead they were tall until they weren’t as…