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He peers looking with all his might.Something unfamiliar appears.Something beautiful, something exciting,something new.Amazed at the wonder of unexpected change,he realizes the powerof occasionally gazingwith all his mightin another direction.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 348/365.
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It is important to do meaningful things, even when you don’t get paid right away.I don’t smile on cueand say it’s healthysometimes I choose difficult things—pulling weeds, shoveling manure—not glamorous, but necessary.I want to be busy.I want to be challenged.I want to be fascinated. Just because I’m dirty, sweaty,and I curse under my breath,don’t assume…
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I watch highlighted pages ignite,as I burn my spiritual books.I declare I am a non-believer.I am not agnostic or fence-sitting.Atheist is too political.Secular humanist is the nearest labelfor my non-belief.I’ve wasted a lot of my timeexploring belief systems that didn’t fit.The sweet smell of paper burning—prior certainty fading—scents the cool night breeze.I do not believe…
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Sky-scraping monoliths abrade the atmosphere like coarse sandpapercreating grandlifeless canyons.© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge 345/365.
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Oozing crimsonfrom fresh scratches tracking down my bare shin.Chill morning air seepinginto ancient bones and jointsdark brew steaming—an orange sphere risingover the chipped rim.Calico and tuxedo kittensplayfully climb my legsas if they are trees.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 344/365.
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Downy gray clouds settle,embracing barren plateaus. Pale feathers sift downto comfort naked sandstone.Snow settles on industrial structures,softens edges, and muffles sounds.Angular blacks and whites blur,disguising stainless steel shadows.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 343/365.
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Tick tock, tick tock—We’re running out of time.We’re all running out of time.This moment, a grain of time,has already fallen through the hourglassby the time you read this line.So why are you waiting—to begin a business,a book, a poem,to say “hello”?Why wait—to travel,to play the trumpet, to call a friend?Why wait—to paint,to hike,to say I’m…
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Alone in the gray of the winterafter my son died,I was irritated and jealousof the people who still had childrenwho still celebrate holidays.It wasn’t fair.Jingle bells on the radioand in every elevator,friends and family laughing,the well-wishes,the tinseled tree,wrapped and ribboned gifts weretoo much to bear.Trying to smile—while inside,all I could do was cry.Like the Grinch,I…
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first day of the rest of my lifeandlast day of most of my life.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 340/365.Image from the internet.
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Expecting the unexpectedmakes it an appointment.The struggleagainst censorship and conformity,dismissed as a phase,is a precursor to the coming silence.Like matter and antimatter,citizenship and servitude,should not share the same space.There is no way to square this circle.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 339/365.
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Desert Dweller 