John Biscello

Mother, without your touch,

blood-lush access to eternity’s grasp,

I am rudderless, and adrift,

in a world that shits on innocence.

…………………………………..

Daughter, without you to hold,

a promise illumined into love’s totem,

I am sunless, and moonless,

a  stray tide receding into an abyss,

where innocence lies in wait,

numb to its cherish.