The night was so quiet
I could almost hear
the stars, that place
laden with pines.
Your eyes hard to read across
the air between us, air
you swallowed whole with
I’m sorry, I need more room.
But I believe in gestures,
in the plate of mandarinas
served at dawn,
when you knew I needed feeding.
Linda Laino is a visual artist and writer who has been making art in one form or another for over forty-five years.She received two years of fellowship awards from the Virginia Museum in pursuit of an MFA from Virginia Commonwealth University. Since 1988 she has shown work regularly in solo and group exhibitions when she was awarded a prize from The American Craft Museum in New York. Her work is included in major collections including the McDonough Museum in Ohio, and Fundación Valparaíso in Spain. In recent years, she has had residencies in New Mexico, France, Spain, and most recently, Maine. Her poems and prose have been published in many small presses and anthologies, most recently in La Presa of Guanajuato City. Her poem, “Poem at Sixty” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2019. She has lived in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico since 2012.