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Salvatore Buttaci : Writing

THE RESCUERS

THE RESCUERS

A Poem by Salvatore Buttaci


What few realize is that many of these rescuers themselves now pay the price of bad health for their altruistic endeavors.
TIME ON OUR HANDS

TIME ON OUR HANDS

A Poem by Salvatore Buttaci


We must never forget.
ALL THINGS IN THEIR SEASON

ALL THINGS IN THEIR SEASON

A Poem by Salvatore Buttaci


Once my 89-year-old grandfather asked me, "How long would you like me to live? Three hundred years? Then would you ask for 300 more?"
THIS WATER THAT�S HOLY  (for Anna Coppola: 1936-1999)

THIS WATER THAT’S HOLY (for Anna Coppola: 1936-19..

A Poem by Salvatore Buttaci


We are never prepared for the loss of loved ones nor does time wash us clean of sorrow.
THAT LAST DAY

THAT LAST DAY

A Poem by Salvatore Buttaci


When that day comes, the media too will be running for futile cover.