Thursday, March 31, 2011

~Johnny Depp music video~

The Retired Man

Dare - I open the drape. . .
Oh yes - light -
excites me - as you lay at
peace, sleeping.
Sleeping - extending night.

I close the drape - leave -
to run along a shore where
toes are kissed by white
lace - where salt water shifts
shells or swallows them for
another day - in and
out. . .

Here - I listen - I smell sea
air - feel the dampness on my
face - while you sleep as if
you were a retired man
from the red and white motel -

but - he too awakes as sunlight
changes the color of the sky
a sudden pink horizon. . .
He walks around his property,
and sweeps cigarette butts
off a faded - chipped -
redwood deck. . . his feet
shuffle in morning light.

How gentle are the waves, as
sea gulls play - as if
attached to strings - begging.

The old man - he must have
planned this day, as once a
dream, attending to his

To be here, to be sitting -
resting - closer to me. . .
Closer to where my feet play -
and sink in sand -

The retired man stares at dawn
as a smile lines his face, the
coming of a new day. Perhaps -
remembering yesterday - when
his red and white motel was
filled with company. . .

His bald head - tanned - pants
rolled above his knees, a pot
belly rests -
on his thighs. . .
His eye's. . . see more than you
who sleeps extending night.

He tosses yesterdays
garbage - inside a brown
paper bag, resting at his feet -
scatters it across
a brilliant sky -

Sea gulls flock - flap to
applaud - kiss his hand.
The retired man, he knows when
day is day, and sleeps at night
when sea gulls fade.

(c)all rights reserved
Nancy Duci Denofio

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Night Shadows

endless white lines
drawn lightly on asphalt
casting a touch of
dropping designs -
limbs of a tree
as our headlight's

so softly, light
disturbs night -

slices of slate near
ice blue water -
a single orange cone
over a ridge,
a carnival,
a flare of lights -
sirens heard. . .

steep – a mountain –
light will not filter
through a mass of trees,
snuggled on a mountain
top - where
paths are lonely, limbs
destroyed by a mighty
wind - spheres of light

talk on dotted lights
brighter then before -
flashing red - off and on. . .
one side of this mountain
closed - slowly now - I
glance to my right and
stare at slate

ice blue water - run
down its side, a sun
swallowed yesterday.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved @2011

Monday, March 7, 2011


A Smile Lines Your Face

At night - trapped
space - I lay awake,
lift my head
to watch you as you

Black hair - thinner now,
your beard rough, and
your eyes closed.

Peacefulness surrounds
me as your eyes flutter;
probably dreaming.
A smile lines your face.

My eyes close -
I know I am safe.

Nancy Duci Denofio
2007 @all rights reserved

Thursday, March 3, 2011



One morning on my way to school,
I reached on tip toes toward a ledge
below the window where Mama kept
her orange pills – the window faced
Seneca Street – Mama always watched
when I ran across the market lot to
fetch the correct tuna or the right
American bread – she stared until I
crossed Seneca Street, holding what
she told me to buy at the big market.

Don’t know why I took her bottle of
orange pills early on a school day,
to shove into my pocket of a freshly
starched dress, pink with flowers.

Behind Grandmother’s bushes near
red beans where I made mud pies, I
removed the top – it popped right off.
All those orange pills stared at me,
as if they had every like all those people
in our neighborhood.

First, I glanced to the upstairs window
making sure Grandmother was still
praying on her knees – so I chew one –
chewed it – then I chew another, and

I left the bushes and began my walk to
school, first past Charlie’s Grocery
store; everyone said it will close soon
because of the big market. But old
Charlie was sitting in his rocker still
chewing on his cigar – he pretended he
never saw me.

My walk down Avenue A toward my
school only one block but filled with
Mamas who never worked, that’s when
I noticed one pounded her rug with
a broom on the upper porch. I pretended
I didn’t see her, turned to hide behind
the old oak trees which once lined
streets here in our neighborhood
Mama’s friend never looked my way –
as I peeked around the tree chewing
one more orange pill, and then another
and another.

I took another orange pill from the jar,
and chewed it – glancing back toward
the lady pounding the rug, she looked
funny, kind of blurred, kind of foggy.

Into the pocket of the pink flowered
dress, I shoved Mama’s pills. I knew
it was time to be in school.

You see, I thought I took enough
to live.

Twinkle - Twinkle Little Star

Humming the song to myself, leaning
my head against the push out window
of our Studebaker,

How I wonder what you are?”

I began to draw stick figures as if they
were me, drawing fast and rubbing it
drawing and rubbing it, over and over
rubbing it until it was clean – breathing
rubbing – breathing harder – rubbing
of our Studebaker - rubbing it clean –
breathing – rubbing – breathing – rubbing
and drawing, erasing it – exhaling,
breathing, drawing, and erasing it

Up above the world so high
I believe it was my first time to fly.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved @2011