So much depends upon three banty roosters chuckling to themselves in the mock orange sunrise that peeps in from East Tampa. For weeks I walk off mourning as dawn feathers the sky […]
The Littles
Gianna Russo
Poet, Writer, Editor, Teacher
Wordsmith of the City of Tampa 2020-2022
Hawk
I heard her crying from the ancient oak, the tree where a hive of bees had set up shop huge as a fruit crate. Eating lunch on the veranda did […]
Bats at Twilight
I’ve heard how they claim the Congress Street Bridge: like folded fur handkerchiefs hundreds hang on the underbelly. At dusk they swoop out to sport and poach and cloak the sky in […]
Damselfly
Damselfly* Paused on the underside, the damselfly folds her wings across her back like two matched slivers of isinglass. Her body, thin as a thorn, flits by in sepia tone. […]
Every Craving Finds Its Match
I cup your four flavors in my mouth: bitter, sweet, salty, sour. The tastes are male and female: the miracles of a girl’s first blood, her first lover’s sweat. The various […]
Litany for Lilley
by Gianna Russo (after Billy Collins) You are the French pedicure and the bell-like laugh, you are the Bridge of Lions and the Bijou sale. You are the right answer on […]
From Sea to Shining
O beautiful, for the seats in the rental car are spacious and wanderlust is winking in the moonless skies. It’s the day before the 4th of July. We’ve been stuck in our […]
Dinner with Dad
Our Sundays with Dad go like this: at about 5:15 Dad arrives carrying a cloth grocery bag that contains two cans of lemon lime soda. He will mix the soda with red […]
I go to nature to be soothed and healed . . . John Burroughs
Originally posted on gianna russo:
So
The Gloria Sirens 