“Landscapes and portraits,” are what I write says Mona Toscano. A published workshop-trained poet, frequent open-mike reader, Mona coordinates the Hudson River Poets. They gather at the Newburgh Free Library, the first Thursday of the month.
Eagle I If, once more, the eagle that I saw along the Newburgh shore-- on a burr-cold February day in a swirling winter storm-- were to soar by again on a balmy day, wearing his sleek white crown and feathery ruff, his glossy-black wingspread, his dart-eye gaze, then, I would run under the wake of his flight and chant out load: "Stay, stay, stay gigantic bird, stay here for a hundred days and, then on a clear equinox night, pluck with your sharp hook beak and hold in your sleek yellow talons tight, a scant thread from a shooting star for us to weave into the tapestry of dreams and Hudson Highland verse, a terse image of you, majestic, regal, and imperial, avian symbol of return." * Oh, mythic Hudson River eagle, your being connects us to the fragrant, seen and unseen, fabric of the universe. Mona Toscano 4/12/10