Ellie belfiglio

When I hear this sound that awakens me, intimidating its way into my cloistered night, I write…




… Once I climbed a cloud

A cloud so white, whiter than light

I reached and touched where it began

I soared to its highest edge…

… I flew slowly to its whiteness

To reach the blue beyond it

Each step I took, brought me joy and peace

I held to its softness, but my hand was empty…


… As the sun set, white turned to red

I grabbed a handful of nothing

I climbed higher to the top

Till the view of blue became clear…

… At the top of edges were bright red

I held to its softness, my heart at peace

To care for earth, I had none

Once I climbed a cloud!! …





Author: elliebelfiglio

I am a professor, a poet, an author, and an immigrant. I am the survival of many political and economical hardship. As a political immigrant, it took me a long time to master the English language and to come to terms that I can never see my family again. "THE PARTING FROM MY FAMILY WAS THE BEGINNING OF A FRIENDSHIP THAN THE END OF OUR FRIDAYS!" My autobiography, "THE RAIN STOPS IN TEXAS" was published in 1997 by Eakin Press. It can be found in Amazon. As Ernest Hemingway says, write about something you know, most of my novels are about cultural difference of the old and new and American style of living compare to my home country. My poetry are in all forms. I write as they come to me. My first draft is always my last draft. "THIS IS MY WORLD, WELCOME!" "THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!"

3 thoughts on ““MY HAND WAS EMPTY”

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