When he died in 1995, Joe left behind a legacy of
hundreds of poems and dozens of manuscripts. This website exists to
help all of us remember and enjoy his writing. As his friend, David
Tucker, wrote in the introduction to Only Here, "If this
is your first encounter with his poetry, you are about to make
gratifying discoveries." Begin your discovery of Joe's work with
the title poem below.
I wake
Holding the blue piece
Of a dream. And lying still
On the cloudy pillow,
Before the day's first word
Spreads meaning out over the world,
I let the morning rain
Be all I am.
And in the slender
Stone-colored light, the ordinary
Promises of my life are made again,
Attaching themselves silkenly
Like rain to the window
Or my car glazed like a white rose
In the driveway.
And the dream
Now cold, blows away
Like history, my wife
Stirring beside me, the
feathery touch
Of our first child turning
In her widening belly. Downstairs,
The kitchen waits. There is nothing
To decide. Everything asleep
Is about to awake, the day
Set like a mighty clock
In the silence.
Opening our eyes,
We lift the world; the universe
Tossed like rain from the tips
Of our lashes. Only here
Our ordinary eyes learn to
find eternity--
There is nothing else. The luster
Is this plainness we walk in;
This poverty we rise to
At the end of dreaming--
The sacrament each day
Of our feet touching
The floor.
Books by
Joe Salerno
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about Joe
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Books by Joe Salerno
Poetry friends and organizations special to Joe:
The Black Swan Review
The Skylands Writers & Artists Association
email us about Joe or his poetry