Ellie belfiglio

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




The wind blows, rustling the leaves

Among trees I hear a voice calls me.

The moon is full and bright.

It cast shadows on walls!

Wall of my darkened, somber thought;

Old dreams, echoes of past, what I’ve sought.

They all here to haunt me of the past.

The early morning sun, the promise that isn’t last!


There is no brighter day, as sun rises in East.

Darkness is chaste away, I see a mist,

Memories become distant as desire,

Like an echo of past, they set me in fire!

A soft, gentle voice, I hear calling me.

Call my name when I am with my tree.

Looking at leaves that rustles with breeze,

Surround me to lean in the arm of ease.

Darkness disappears from night,

And takes my fright out of this sight!




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!"

8 thoughts on ““ECHOES OF YESTERDAY”

  1. Sometimes, the splendour of nature can dust off the lingering sorrow and bring a smile to the face.

Let everybody be nice!

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