Misilmeri

the sicilian boy sits on the hill
listens for the goat's bell
peeling eats the ripe red flesh 
of the cactus pear
his belly still empty
dreamily speaks to himself of dreams near the sleeping emir
hungrily dreams of america
hears what comes from his dreams
what he remembers of his mother's voice
shepherds his uneasy fears
the easier joys
their healing breezes flow through him
lovely meadows reach for his thin fingers
the clear waters of the brook baptismal
bless the wildflowers the sun splashing
on the mossy stones
the goat's bell tinkles
drowsily he leaves for the blue
and dreaming sea

jppestana november 8, 2016