In Italy,

South of Rome but

North of Sicily,

There is a town.

This town,

As I imagine,

I stuck in


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




About lapiccolacoccinella

I consistently have trouble with self-definition, but I'll give it my best shot here.... I am a twentysomething Italian-American woman from New England who loves clowning and cats and goth subculture and animanga and art and writing and books. I am an aspiring author and artist who currently blogs for Amazing Stories Magazine. I love getting feedback and advice from readers in order to allow my work to grow. View all posts by lapiccolacoccinella

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