Almanack Contributor Annette Pisano-Higley

Annette Pisano-Higley

Annette Pisano-Higley is a Registered Nurse living in both Albany and Florida. She is a published song-lyricist and published a book of her original Adirondack poetry, with photography by her husband Walter Higley, Adirondack Echoes, available on Amazon.com. Annette’s book was inspired by their idyllic summers at the beloved family Camp on Limekiln Lake, Inlet, in the beautiful New York State Adirondack Park.


Saturday, December 5, 2020

Poetry: Harvest

Harvest

Brown soil is cool and moist in my hands,

Reminding me of who I am,

And of what came before me.

Planting, replenishing, giving back,

Restores me to myself.

This land belongs to everyone,

And no-one,

Though men plant flags to claim dominion.

» Continue Reading.


Saturday, November 21, 2020

Poem: Sun Will Rise

Sun Will Rise

Beware blind rage that

Panders to fear and leads us all

To murder the light.

Know that when temperate minds prevail…

Sun will rise and babes

Will be born, and what is meant

To be, will still be.

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, November 8, 2020

Poetry: We Dare

We Dare

Dare we feel?

This is the time.

Dare we think?

This is the time.

Dare we speak?

This is the time.

» Continue Reading.


Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Poetry: Death of a Dragonfly

Death of a Dragonfly
(All lives matter…)
See season changes so temperate,

That one must still their breath, softly,

Even to notice.

Parading a lushness of bloom,

Riotous tendrils burst and grow anew,

In sparkling diamonds of morning dew,

Reveling in summer’s persistent,

And benevolent façade.

» Continue Reading.


Tuesday, October 27, 2020

Poetry: Rainbows

Rainbows
Each morning when I wake,

Errant sunrays pierce crystal orbs

Dripping from east-facing window frames,

And explode into rainbows of light,

On floor and walls.

Cool white tiles come to life,

In prismatic hues,

And help me face the day.

» Continue Reading.


Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Poetry: Friends

Friends

If you have to cry- just cry,

Don’t hold it back, don’t be ashamed,

I’m crying too.  Tears can’t be tamed.

All different now, life rips and tears,

We are connected, and I still care.

» Continue Reading.


Thursday, October 8, 2020

Poetry: In the Midst

In The Midst
Blanketed in moist and heavy air,

Lush leaves cannot lift, cannot stir.

They breathe, though hushed.

I too breathe, though hushed.

» Continue Reading.


Thursday, September 24, 2020

RBG (Ruth Bader Ginsburg)

RBG (Ruth Bader Ginsburg)

Tiny warrior standing tall,

Brooklyn girl, notorious,

Ahead of her time,

Ahead of her ‘place’,

Fearless woman,

Standing for the oppressed.

» Continue Reading.


Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Poetry: Survivalist Wife or “How Much Am I Worth?

Survivalist Wife or “How Much Am I Worth?

So this is me in Survivalist Mode,

I’m “Everywoman” in my abode,

From dawn ’till dusk just like a machine,

Keeping family safe while in quarantine.

Thank God I’m a nurse, it helps so much,

When managing meds, flu vaccines and such.

» Continue Reading.


Monday, August 10, 2020

Poetry: Center

Center

Tiny circle,

Center,

Living in us all,

Outlined in hopes and dreams,

Called by infinite names

Known well, by each keeper.

Tiny circle,

Now shot through with arrows,

Begs mending of its torn edges,

Begs smoothing of the marksman’s ravaging.

Tiny circle,

Center,

Living in us all,

Hold tightly to its clarity and peace,

Like a lake reflecting the sun’s path.

Think of wholeness.  Of wounds that heal.

Shore up the tiny circle,

Bright circle of promise,

That still lives,

In us all.

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Thursday, July 30, 2020

Poetry: Tiny Circle

Tiny Circle

Take photos
Of beauty that exists,
Despite worldly ills and evils.

Preserve the image
Of what is,
Of what was given.

The beams from a lighthouse, reach out
To capture hue, light-play, texture,
Of the moving ocean,
As though trapping it in a fragile bottle
For one tenuous, exquisite moment.
The lens of an eye, like one of glass,
Remembers.

Quickly, jot down a thought
Before it is lost
In a sullen mist.

Quickly, etch a memory
Before it wafts away
In crashing waves.

Quickly, write it all
On the head of a pin,
And hope upon hope
That someone will read about
The beauty that was..Someday.

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, July 11, 2020

Poetry: Daisy Chains

Daisy Chains

Please peek you out, my fairy friend,

From that hiding place of leaves.

Under the buttercups you dance,

Beneath the age old eaves.

Bells of bright petals wreath your hair,

And ferns hem your lacy dress.

Twin fawns kiss you with their warm breath,

While doe kneels down to bless.

In childhood did you come to me,

And brushed away all the tears.

We laughed and skipped with fireflies,

To notes just we could hear.

I never told a soul about,

Our gold and glorious days.

With mauve-lit dells and make believe,

Those things a child would say.

I search and try to seek you out,

Let us weave more daisy chains.

Remember me… I have not changed,

And take my hand again.


Saturday, June 13, 2020

Poetry: Downpour

Downpour

Downpour,
The sibilance of the storm
Sings softly.
Sheets of sound muffle crashes.
Tears are in the rain,
As is celebration,
Warm mother’s milk flows,
Purifying, fortifying,
The torrent insulates and inspires.
This is the simplicity of the beginning of things.
How elemental is this paradigm,
Things are nurtured because they exist,
Things exist because they are nurtured.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Poetry: When Will Life Be Gentle Again?

When will life be gentle again?

When will the ethers embrace us once more,

Kiss our upturned faces,

Forgive us our simple pleasantries, our playfulness,

Our innocence, our childishness, our embraces,

Our spontaneity, our casual fearlessness,

Our joy.  All we took for granted.

When will life be gentle again?

Have we used up all our chances?

Did we believe we had a finite number?

God, how much more do we stand to lose

If we do not change now, turn our faces

To a different, harder path,

But a path no less.

When will life be gentle again?

Please save our children, do not let their green shoots,

Wither and die, in this cold.

Please do not reap our elders too soon, and alone,

They are the source of our knowledge and our grace.

Do not allow this bitter wind to use us as a killing field

When will life be gentle again?

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, May 10, 2020

Poetry: My Harbor

My Harbor

A bottomless moat between us widens like a sea wall,
Against the waves that threaten.
I cry raindrops, in a city cordoned like a stone cage,
Impenetrable.
“Help me!”, I cry out.
Your answer echoes softly, “I am here.”,
So faintly, so faintly,
Wistful words floating through the burdened air,
Dangerous ether kept at bay, at a distance,
Only by distance.
Like a ship stranded in a windless ocean,
I cannot raise my sails, I cannot find my course,
I cannot navigate,
Until you speak again, “I am here.”
True North, true North, you are my harbor.
Sweetest breeze plays upon my face, pure,
As I see your light breaking through the bleakest of mist,
To light my way home, and I know
I am saved.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.



Wait, before you go,

sign up for news updates from the Adirondack Almanack!