Last verse
By Donna Pucciani
If this were my last verse,
I would bury it under the lilac bush,
where I interred the goldfishes
of my childhood, Fran and Daniel,
who leapt to their untimely death
from the fishbowl where
we had peered at each other,
eye to eye, for months.
They were the only pets
I was allowed, others
requiring daily walks
or housecleaning chores
for fallen fur. They
saved my life in the long
lonely weeks at home,
friendless, stranded in the dark
with an intoxicated mother
and kindly father who ignored
it all except the daily office grind.
And so, dear fish, I think
of my own inevitable demise,
and wonder who will inter me
under some lilac bush, or scatter
me among the roses.
May this be my last verse,
an elegy to myself and to
all goldfish, alive, swimming,
flipping out, or decomposing
in a sepulcher of shrubs.
Donna Pucciani’s poetry has been been published in diverse journals such as International Poetry Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, The Pedestal, Poetry Salzburg, Shichao Poetry, Istanbul Literary Review and Christianity and Literature. Her poetry has been translated into Chinese, Japanese and Italian, and has won awards from the Illinois Arts Council and The National Federation of State Poetry Societies, among others. She has been nominated five times for the Pushcart Prize and currently serves as Vice-President of the Poets’ Club of Chicago. She has authored several poetry collections such as Edges (2016), Ghost Garden (2016) A Light Dusting of Breath (2015), Hanging Like Hope on the Equinox (2013),To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn (2011) among others.