Ron Dragano
Ron Dragano Poems
I read the news today - winter is history
A fading memory, blowing away in a warm wind
That's easy on ya, - carrying songs.
Most everybody sings along,
...
(Poi d'improvviso venivo dal vento rapito
E incominciavo a volare nel cielo infinito)
...
In summer I see them roosting high in the old pines,
Hear them calling, black wings lifting them to flight,
Not so in winter. Where have they gone?
Into the deep woods, I think
...
Ron Dragano Biography
I’m an elementary school teacher – sort of a second career – I don’t remember much of what I did before, on purpose, I suppose. Perhaps because I’ve found some variant of it or maybe just because I’m growing old. I am an old man on a park bench, feeding pigeons, listening to the children squeal – they sit in a circle and one whose IT collects cold water from a nearby water bubbler; she walks outside the little group and chooses one from behind upon whom she dumps the water and runs for her vacant former seat on the grass - up jumps the dripping child to give chase and failing to catch the perpetrator now becomes IT and I am IT, tagged by some song - too slow to catch anybody, not the anybody I wanted to catch anyway, yes I’m out with it - I’m just a cliché – didn’t get the girl but caught the damned disease anyway ….)
The Best Poem Of Ron Dragano
Song
I read the news today - winter is history
A fading memory, blowing away in a warm wind
That's easy on ya, - carrying songs.
Most everybody sings along,
Something inside can't help but sing
Echoing spring's rising tide
Today, buds sprouting, trees leave out lime green,
The birds sing.
Today's sun shines golden, lucent on the green,
The frogs sing.
Today's blue-eyed sky will ripen to wide-eyed, starry night
It's all here - dawnto dusk alight,
The crickets will sing.
I read the news today, oh boy, about a lucky man who didn't
I read that the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi is not by St. Francis
The very prayer my father had hanging on his wall -
"Make me an instrument of your peace…"
Not his. A fact that Franciscans readily acknowledge.
"Too much I and me, " they say."Not enough brothers and sisters,
Too little Jesus and Lords.Not his."
Ron Dragano Comments
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4/19/2024 12:32:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Ron Dragano lives in my neighborhood where he is respected as a poet. He is kind to old people and animals and, apart from that, what he does in his free time is none of my business. We both like squirrels and I like these two poems.