“Notes from December”


The year was not an even number

silencing the wind and the leaves

slowly climbing the stairs

and stopping to breath

smells of paintings I didn’t care to see anymore

in a dark room

blossoms of souls melting

with only the light of a blue screen

who’s watching outside the glass door?

the time is weary

of images that blur the memory

poem & photography by Marco Pignataro




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