"Stroll Through Taormina"
(Taormina, Sicily - 1998)

Warm air gently caressing my face,
Sicilian breeze whispering in my ear
Men drinking wine and playing briscola,
Laughing and cursing in the shady alleys
Aproned women gossiping in the piazza,
Kerchiefed heads nodding in unison,
Perfect in their unrehearsed choreography
Animated and indiscreet in their gestures
Facial expressions saying much more
Than moving lips and wagging tongues
Children running and playing games,
Like their American cousins used to
But abandoned two score ago
For technology and juvenile crime
My catching flirting glances and warm smiles
Long inviting second looks by the signorinas
Clever beggar woman with a tin pan
Dressed up all in black and crying
Strategically beneath the icon near the arch
Calling "maleducati" to those ignoring her

Provolone carved into different shapes -
Horses, ballerinas and different saints
Strung up and hanging on little red ropes
In windows above the breads
Pastries on display to tempt and tantalize
Carved boxes and religious articles in the shops
Who should leave without a Sicilian Cart?
Tarantella Siciliana playing onto the street
From a music store paradoxically selling
Alice In Chains, Nirvana and vintage Queen
Suddenly, feeling Aetna watching me,
Looking up - awestruck at her majesty
Approaching an old wrought iron rail,
Looking down at the beautful blue sea
I remain unnoticed in my Sicilian looks
My demeanor says I am one of them
I am strolling here among my people
The language a music to my ears
All of my senses feasting this experience
My Sicilian pride reinforced by my stroll


2000 poetheart

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