Friday, March 20, 2015

Il Scolio

We came to the United States from a small town near Messina, Italy. WWII had come and gone and left not only Italy desolate but also its people desolate of income or home. Many friends and relatives left for America, but my father and mother wanted to hold on. They didn't want to leave the land where they were born, grew up, married, and raised a family. Yet, after years of saying no, my father acquiesced to his brother's pressure and we came to America.

We immediately became Americanized even though we spoke little if any English. We adopted America as our home yet our culture, faith, and ties hold on to that little town with its beautiful vistas of mountains, castle, and sea.

The Rock

America’s streets are lined with gold
Sicily’s are dirt bare.
We eat from God’s bounty
Nothing more.

Yet, we are surrounded by beauty
Our home sits high
To the left a fifteenth century castle
To the right country mountains
Our terrace view?
The Mediterranean sea!

Young and old dive into the deep waters
Swimming till they reach
the distant rock
Symbol of strength and endurance.

Yet, we leave beauty behind
To put money in our pockets
Food in our bellies
And shoes on our feet.

America becomes our home
Sicily pumps within our veins
Never forgetting our roots
the distant rock.

© Natala Orobello

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