Wooden Spoon-Una Zingara (Sabrina Escorio)

At The Whisper And The Roar, Sabrina Escorcio offers a poem of parting and hopes.

Whisper and the Roar

We didn’t have to ask
The memories told themselves
Over tiramisu and espresso
While the smoke lingered
Off Nonna’s birthday candles
And Zia’s stale cigarette
That sat perched on her lips
Appearing glued in place
Their story rolled out like fog
Clouding vision
Just enough
To disguise their tears
As they reminisced
And we listened to bay city rollers
Huddled beneath a tiny radio
That balanced on the windowsill
The metronomic hum and thud
of the clothing dryer in the kitchen
Set the pulse of their conversation.

They kissed loved ones goodbye
Wearing clothes made of fabric
They could not afford
It was the sixties
Where damp cheek kisses
Replaced words of apprehension
Fear wrapped delicately
Within fantasy once fed forcefully
By the wooden spoon of heritage
Then regurgitated over Atlantic waves
Their stomachs emptied
That no dream could fill
Lost somewhere between
The warm Genoa sky

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