Patria

In Italy,

South of Rome but

North of Sicily,

There is a town.

This town,

As I imagine,

I stuck in

Time.

I see goats,

And children farming,

Wagons full of

Bread and cheese.

It’s a town

Done up in

Sepia tone –

A memory.

A memory,

But not mine.

An image left

Behind –

By a grandfather

Who left and never

Had the chance

To go back.

It’s really too bad

That I still

Haven’t

Been.

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