by JoAnna Scandiffio

 

we miss

those little souvenirs
of where we ate

when we were once
in love and kept

the spark

of our romance
in an old dresser drawer

that wasn’t opened

 

JoAnna Scandiffio is a graduate gemologist living in San Francisco. Her poems are like bird nests, made with fragments randomly connected to capture the moment. Her work has appeared in Calyx, The Poeming Pigeon, Poets 11, The MacGuffin, Italian Americana, The RavensPerch, The Ekphrastic Review, and other journals. She is a Pushcart Prize Nominee and a finalist for the Jane Underwood Prize. Her chapbook, water is never still, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.