Must I Answer?

There are moments
in the early still dark
morning
when saints and sinners
come to call . . .
voices floating
in the misty fog
of twilight.

"Who are you"they ask,
with ears extended.
"What is it you've
come to accomplish
here with your
feet dug into the ground?"

"Nothing" I say.
"Nothing?" they ask.
"Nothing" I say again.
"I just want to sleep!"

Joanne Cucinello 2009

Sandbox

So what do I say?
Does it even matter now that
all the sand is gone?
I never played there anyway.

So what . . .
if I heard things I wasn't supposed to?
So what . . .
if I knew the world was going to end
when I was only seven?

How do you carry the sins of your mother
and one day say no more
and one day say . . . go away
and don't come back!?

What do you say to God?
Where were you???
I know . . . I know . . . but I really don't know
even though I was supposed to
even though I thought all children were forgiven.


Joanne Cucinello 2008