Poet and Flash Fiction Writer - Salvatore Buttaci

Poet and Flash Fiction Writer – Salvatore Buttaci

One of the first poets that I had come to rely upon to inspire my own muse, honors us with his presence this week as our co-host. A writer most of his life, you couldn’t go wrong learning a thing or two from this retired educator (I’ve taken much from his work – all lessons well learned!). Of course I write of Salvatore Buttaci.

In Sal’s words:

Salvatore Buttaci is a retired English teacher and professor who has been writing since childhood. His first published work, an essay entitled “Presidential Timber,” appeared in the Sunday New York News when he was sixteen. Since then his poems, letters, short stories, and articles have been widely published in The New York Times, Newsday, U.S.A. Today, The Writer, Cats Magazine, Creative Bloomings, A Word with You Press. and elsewhere in America and overseas. He was the 2007 recipient of the $500 Cyber-wit Poetry Award.  

 He is the author of two flash-fiction collections published by All Things That Matter Press:

Flashing My Shorts available at

200 Shorts available at

 His book, A Family of Sicilians … is available at .

 If Roosters Don’t Crow, It Is Still Morning: Haiku and Other Poems (Cyber-Wit Publications) is available at

 In 2001, Pudding House Publications included his work in the Greatest Hits Series with his chapbook, Greatest Hits: 1970-2000.

 His latest poetry chapbook, What I Learned from the Spaniard… is available at


Visit Sal’s blog site at

He lives with his wife Sharon in West Virginia.


PROMPT #146 – “LINE PLEASE!” – Use any or all of these lines in your poem. Or use one as your title.

“Evening is a shroud”
“Shared, but not divided”
“Over time and distance”
“Love lies buried”
“Where we always laugh and dream”



Darkness covers all,
cloaking everything enveloped in her sad embrace.
Her face is hidden, masked and concealed,
not to be revealed in the muted moonlight.
Even stars bright lose their luster, remaining
only a cluster of distant orbs. Evening absorbs
and devours, leaving a pall over the crowd.
Evening is a shroud.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014



Over time and distance
I contemplate the love we knew,
Replay those happy days
Now shadows in my memory.

It’s so hard believing
Love lies buried beneath the years
We walked the world as one,
Certain love would last forever.

You are somewhere out there.
I am adrift on lonely seas.
Evening is a shroud
Do you likewise mourn for our love?

The promises we made,
Meant to be shared, not divided,
Have all been tossed away,
Ashes in the barrel of time.

These nights I go to sleep
Where we always laugh and dream
And once more renew vows
We one day swore before God.

© 2014 Salvatore Buttaci