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Sparkles and monochrome rainbowsilluminate another gaudy Saturday morning,the death car veeringfirst away from, then toward misfortune.Voices echo down the long hall,children playingto the backdropof serious adult conversation,which is more important.At the bottom of the stairs that lead to the front door,sits a bewildered prophetsavoring an infective sandwich,loaded with bacterial wisdom.Seeing only his own hunger, hearing…
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crowning,orange glow,barely discernible,straining, pushing upwardsreddish dabs and drizzles shimmering rays beaming semicircle becoming ovoidstruggling to escape the horizonmother earth groans,finally giving birth to floating orbwarm yellow balloondefining this new day© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 75/365.
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I walk, no run,down the street,past businesses and homes,amidst traffic and noise,barking dogs, mowersraging against helpless grass.I runpast machinerybelching petrochemical smoke,past containersbrimming with refusedestined for the toxic wasteland.I run, not awayfrom tall buildingsand tall walls,but toward the open sky,toward mountains on the horizon.I run toward a placewhere I can hear birdsongand the singing wind, a…
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At my age,I am more past than future.My life is like taking a trip on a spiraling track from birth to death.Window seat on a train, not knowing which line I’m on, or when to get off.I don’t know where I’m headed, only thatI’ve travelled part of a long odyssey.Present events have no valueuntil tomorrow.My…
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wispy limber branchdraped over barren desertcreates healing shade© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 71/375.
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when it is there, following,i can never outrun it.it is there ahead, during morning hikes, walking with sun behind.what does my shadow seewhen it peers back at me?does it see lightor only darkness from which it is cast?or perhaps in between, the graynot quite light, not yet dark.what is it liketo live only in the…
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glow of morning sunfiltered through gray feathered wingsappears angelic© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 69/365.
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now that winter is history,the underground river, flowingthrough caverns and cisterns,rarely surfacingas trickles and poolsbecomes visible. towering cottonwoods,wooden cathedrals, changingfrom barren to green,give away the secret locationof this magical waterway,verdant symbolof natures rebirth, meanderingthrough desiccated grassland.serpentine sanctuary,playground for jokester coyote,divine dove, hovering hummingbird,jovial javelina and quavering quail.what is essential is invisible to the eye.© 2025…
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Coming close to deathcan be transforming.I stopped fearing deaththe instant I recognizedthat I am more thanflesh and bone.My fear of death vanishedthe instant I recognizedthat I am fashioned fromSpirit and Light.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford Challenge day 52/365.
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Sweet land of libertywhere hope and dreams go to die.Another goddamn mirage.Land of pilgrim’s pridebeckoning the impoverished,the persecuted, the lost,with dreams of opportunity,promises of safety and prosperity.When they land here,land of the free, home of the brave,they are greeted by barbed wire fences.Reviled in a land that speaks in riddles,where each accent is a target,each…
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Desert Dweller 