Okay so I am on a roll now that I have figured this blog thing out.
Am posting a recent poem of mine

Parsimony

Our family hides hands

inside gloves and pockets,

under armpits, clasped tightly

front or back – so still.

We never gesticulate -

arms fluttering wildly

like sparrows’ wings,

like Sicilian widows

gossiping fortissimo.

Our lips, tightly pursed

or barely open, squeeze

syllables out begrudgingly

as a priest confessing lust.

We never have enough

to spare of words

of feelings,

straight-jacketed -

scarecrows leaking straw.