The “I” in me brings out that cry in me; It drags me to dwell in the sty in me. Like others I too have the lie in me That pushes me over to the spy in me. That cankerous ego should die in me. I want to dig out the supply in me Of the virtues and hopes that lie in me.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
Ron