Monday, August 14, 2017

Immigrant Dreams

It is the height of summer
and another bouquet of basil
is clutched together on the cutting board.

When you pluck a leaf, the fragrance
engulfs you for a moment -
you are back in Sicily,
but this time you are not poor.

Tomatoes, engorged by recent rain
split their skins, not waiting for the knife.
The meaty fruit is the color of a sunrise
over the Mediterranean
on a cloudless morning.

The yellow squash and zucchini
are laying up in the dirt,
and it pleases you to imagine the box
you will carry into the church basement
with "FREE!" hand written on the side.

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