Selected Poetry by Rosamaria Nagle

Photo Source: Unsplash

I Do Not Grieve Him

Attic, scattered hay

searching beneath snarls of wood

for words unfurled purred

in broken shingles.

Rain gurgles, beams stow moisture.

I have spent my life

(Stuck in the twilight

is a tumble of stars

that blink up and down}

searching  famous homes,

    --palms pressed upon wooden beams

      smoothed to a softness

      the side of your thumb--

ranch house in Franklin rumored

to have housed subject.

(in the bottom drawer

Nathaniel Hawthorne's bureau

lies the gauze that holds

his baby teeth). Void

of emotion, artifacts.

Thesis. Collector,

I do not grieve him,

on my knees, arms full of hay.

I do not grieve my father.

January

I stood on a milk carton until I found the moon

I wanted. Not the sleek one,

soft silver tinsel,

every edge

perfectly tinged in pink.

The precious one. Slightly cracked

crescent, hand-painted

my mother slipped under her arm

carried from the attic

in bare feet

when her hair grew,

long

shiny

loosely braided.

Rosamaria Nagle is a poet, playwright, and indie filmmaker from Boston, MA. Her latest poetry publication was in Inklette Magazine, 9/15/22, for her poem “Alton Bay Villanelle”. Her article “I Lost Over 6 Stone-” was published in MetroUK, summer of 2022. Her horror film “Viola” had its latest screening in NYC on 4/10/2026 at Manhattan University’s Sixth Borough Film Festival.