My Sicily: a poem

What is Sicily to me? There are hundreds of Sicilies. An island of hundred faces. like the tale of Medusa who becomes more elaborate at every retelling. Singing like Rosa Balistreri with an emotional strength pouring out the tears in an overflowing stream. A song of Sicily’s poverty, her beauty, with her insatiable energy, the…

My Grandmother’s eyes

In the mirror there I can’t see myself.  I see my grandmother’ eyes looking back at me  and remember how I made them cry. She is the strongest person I know  and in one mad moment, thinking of myself  I made her weep. I was distracted worrying about overweight baggage  and departure times  I forgot…

Sicilian DNA

Poetry is and will always be my first love. My poems come from my dreams, imagination and emotions. They appear in my mind unexpectedly. An idea comes in a phrase or an image that keeps repeating itself. Something will pester me to the point I cannot ignore. I write it down and it leaves my…