Photo by Daniela Lorenzi


by Daniela Lorenzi

In my waning years, I’ve become
a heart diviner, finding them
in the most unusual places…

in P’Kols Park, a Klimt-gold leaf
lies on the wet autumn earth
glinting heart-shaped richness in the gloom;

further along, an ancient root
worn smooth, swells from the earth—a wriggly,
child-like shape that lightens my spirit;

on a back road’s beat-up asphalt, a large
heart puddle begs for a splash of red boots
a buoyant splatter all around;

at home, a drop on the bathroom counter
has dried to a miniscule outline
a heart memento to ponder as I brush;

even now, in the bottom of my cup, dregs of coffee,
love-shaped — like the sensation, at first light
when you wake me with the warm scent of java.