Starstruck – Catherine LoFrumento

 

struck

by that star

the one looking

through my window

 

its eye of silver

urging me

to visit venus

 

and swim

on the moon.

 

Catherine lives in Connecticut with her husband and fur babies. Though not scientifically proven, she likes to think that earning degrees in both English and Accounting confirms that both sides of her brain work. Her poetry has been featured in various journals and anthologies including Neverlasting, Cattails, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, bottle rockets, 50 Haikus, Three Line Poetry, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and wild voices: an anthology of short poetry and art by women. To see more of her ramblings follow her on Twitter @Catherin03.

September 5, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: American, Catherine LoFrumento, Connecticut, creative, creativity, CT, eye, light, moon, night, one, poem, Poetry, silver, sky, space, star, struck, swimming, US, Venus, window, writing 1 Comment

Dying River – Catherine LoFrumento

 

and here I am

 

no longer a sign

of youth but of

time passing

 

wondering when

my breasts will

lose their fullness

and hang from my chest

like withered teardrops

or worn out sleeves

 

…no longer tempting

your hands and mouth…

 

each egg

counts down

my days

 

I see them

frogs hopping

trying to get free

 

running away

from a dying river.

 

Catherine lives in Connecticut with her husband and fur babies. Though not scientifically proven, she likes to think that earning degrees in both English and Accounting confirms that both sides of her brain work. Her poetry has been featured in various journals and anthologies including Neverlasting, Cattails, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, bottle rockets, 50 Haikus, Three Line Poetry, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and wild voices: an anthology of short poetry and art by women. To see more of her ramblings follow her on Twitter @Catherin03.

August 24, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: American, body, breasts, Catherine LoFrumento, change, Connecticut, creative, creativity, CT, dying, eggs, free, frogs, hands, mouth, poem, Poetry, river, teardrops, time, US, writing, youth Leave a comment

Long Distance – Catherine LoFrumento

 

I talk to myself

when it’s quiet

 

but your voice

is persistent

 

whispering from

the mountains

 

about the touch

of the sea.

 

Catherine lives in Connecticut with her husband and fur babies. Though not scientifically proven, she likes to think that earning degrees in both English and Accounting confirms that both sides of her brain work. Her poetry has been featured in various journals and anthologies including Neverlasting, Cattails, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, bottle rockets, 50 Haikus, Three Line Poetry, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and wild voices: an anthology of short poetry and art by women. To see more of her ramblings follow her on Twitter @Catherin03.

August 14, 2017August 14, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: American, Catherine LoFrumento, Connecticut, creative, creativity, CT, distance, elements, mountains, nature, persistence, poem, Poetry, quiet, sea, talk, touch, US, voice, water, whisper, world, writing Leave a comment