Maybe, I should pull it out of my ass
the unwritten memoir, poem, verse.
My friend hates winter, would shoot herself in the face, but for her rescue dog, who loves to dance in the snow, the white powder glistening on its nose,
unlike a powder we once patronized.
Begging me to strip off my inner gloom
fall back into the stark white of a blank page
shake off the bad,
spread my wings,
share my somber joy.
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Cornelia DeDona
Author, Poet, Photographer, domestic violence survivor, and naturalized immigrant, Cornelia is currently an Arts and Letters Member-At-Large of The National League Of American Pen Women.
Cornelia lived in Kaneohe, Hawaii for thirty-six years. She makes her home in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York.
Her poems and photography are published in print, online and Rain Bird, a literary and art journal of the University of Hawaii's Windward Community College (2008-2013).
In 2013, Cornelia received Rain Bird's Kolokolea Poetry Prize for her poem, "Speaking French."
In October 2015 her chapbook "Hawaiian Time," entered in the National League of American Pen Women’s Vinnie Ream contest was awarded the 3rd place in their inaugural multi-discipline category.
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