Sam Aureli
One spring evening, I paused mid-run beneath a blooming saucer magnolia, petals glowing soft against the dusk. Something in that stillness stirred. A poem, maybe. Or just a whisper from the Earth itself.
Hi, I’m Sam. I write poems that lean in close to the world, especially those quiet moments when something bigger seems to speak through light, trees, wind, memory. I try to listen, and shape what I hear into words.
I was born in Italy, lived in Australia, and now make my home in New England. Along the way, I’ve carried voices with me—of people, places, seasons—all of it woven into my work. My writing tends to live in the in-between spaces: between presence and memory, silence and birdsong, what we know and what we feel but can’t quite name.
Nature is both my muse and my teacher. A rustle of leaves, the hush before snow, the way light moves across a room. These are often where the poems begin. My work has appeared in Humana Obscura, Stanchion, Prosetrics the Magazine, The Atlanta Review, among other literary journals.
If you're someone who’s always looking for meaning tucked inside small moments, I think you’ll feel at home here. These poems are a quiet offering, a way to slow down, look closer, and maybe remember what matters.
Thanks for reading. I’m glad you’re here.
Interview with
Three Panels Press
The Art of Connection: Poetry, Memory, and Meaning
From the bustle of construction sites to the quietude of a back porch, Sam Aureli’s journey to becoming a poet has been anything but linear. Writing, once a distant notion, emerged in his forties as a vital means of making sense of life, memory, and the world around him. Influenced by poetry, art, and music, Sam crafts work that explores belonging, loss, and the small moments that connect us to something larger. In this conversation, he reflects on the moments that shaped his creative path, the mentors and inspirations that guide him, and the writing practices that have transformed a hobby into a calling.
Interview with Brawl Lit and My Poem, “Conversations with My Father”
How do you arrive at the endings of your poems? Of this poem in particular?
Endings are a lot harder than beginnings. I think I’m pretty good at starting poems, at least, that's the feedback I’ve gotten. The most common criticism was that my endings were too neat and over-explanatory, almost like I was summarizing the poem. So I started studying poets like Charles Simic, Jane Kenyon, and most recently, Richard Siken, to see how they handled endings. The editor-in-chief over at the Belfast Review gave me some valuable advice while reviewing one of my manuscripts. She said, instead of tying everything up with a "closed door" ending, I should leave the door open, directing the reader somewhere beyond the poem, letting them think about what resonates with them.
What does your typical writing process look like?
I don’t really have a set writing routine. I work full-time in a pretty stressful environment, so my mind is often all over the place. I’m out of the house early, but I get a lot of inspiration on my long commute. It’s funny how some of my deepest thoughts come up while I’m driving.