Poems by Gregory Arena

Only your footprints.

I was born with nothing

And I rather imagine I’ll die the same way.

Like my Scout handbook said.

 When you go rambling leave only your footprints.


Siren take me.

            Siren drown me.


            I want to see the colours.

            Show me the kaleidoscope.

Hear the silence

Soft September rain

                   Small splattering drops

                   Gently falling lullaby.

                   We all just fade away.

                   Grow old and die, sleep rather

                   Like Homer’s leaves.

                   They fall in the September rain

                   And then they come back again.

                   Sleep is sweet say the ancient Greeks.

                   Hear the silence.

Gregory Arena is 59 and  lives in Bergamo in Northern Italy. He  regularly publishes short stories and poems. He published his first short story when he was 19.

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