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Greg Moglia, one poem

  • May 1, 2018
  • 1 min read

A STRANGER’S TOUCH

At the Met I’m on guard over grandkids

In close study of a mummy

When fingers begin

To entwine my hand

I look up to see a middle-aged woman

Back to me taking a last look at the room

Her hand soft and comforting folds in mine

A mystery that feels right

Then she says Which way honey?

My hold forces her to turn

She sees me and jumps with a screech

I say nothing

Her husband…says to me with a smile

She does that all the time

His wife scoots away in his direction

I say nothing - her hand so easy

Greg Moglia is a veteran of 27 years as Adjunct Professor of Philosophy of Education at N.Y.U and 37 years as a high school teacher of Physics and Psychology. His poems have been accepted in over 300 journals in the U.S., Canada, England, India, Australia, Sweden, and Austria as well as five anthologies. He is the eight times a winner of an ALLEN GINSBERG Poetry Award sponsored by the poetry center at Passaic County Community College. He lives in Huntington, N.Y.


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