ANGELINA

ANGELINA{Calabria, Italy 1938]The morning mistBegan to slowly thinSweet basil thick in the airAs she made her wayLike every other dayAloneDown the narrow village streets of stone.Old dress black and tornBlack lace on hair of whiteBlack stockings falling below her kneesBlack leather slippers faded and wornThe odor of stale rosewater.An occasional smileTo a passerbySweetened by melancholy.Up the hill nearbyTo that holy placeSteadily she climbedPainfullyDay after dayYear after year.There he lay still.She was nineteenHe was twenty-three.

— Geremia, Nov 10, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

Critiques

Seren

16 years 7 months ago

Dearest Joe

There arent words to describe the sad tragic beauty of this ... love and hugs Jayne x x

Geremia

16 years 7 months ago

J.B. Longo-GeremiaThank you,

J.B. Longo-Geremia Thank you, my Jayne. I hope you area doing well. Joe

Kailashana

16 years 7 months ago

Did you know you took 24

Did you know you took 24 lines to break my heart today? ~A "...when it agrees with reason and it will benefit one and all, then accept it and live by it." ~ Buddha

Geremia

16 years 7 months ago

J.B. Longo-GeremiaWell. my

J.B. Longo-Geremia Well. my poem was effective. I have seen many Italian peasant women of that period in my family who mourned for a lifetime. This was in honor to all of them.

Nordic cloud

16 years 7 months ago

and fill the cup of kindness yet

Angelina, Angelina, Angelina what dignity and grace your face describes, what music in the words of poetry, what magic things come forth to give us light and understanding, love and constancy well up in all our thoughts and fill the cup of kindness yet, we'll not forget. Annuccia

Geremia

16 years 7 months ago

J.B. Longo-GeremiaLe tue

J.B. Longo-Geremia Le tue risposte, ,Annuccia, sono anche "una poesia."

Nordic cloud

16 years 7 months ago

Thank you my Longobardolino

The cup of kindness yet, is a reference to Auld lang syne as you know, and it just fell out of my mind unwittingly fitting like a glove to this theme, where did it come from? Did it fall from my Scottish genes without my own knowledge of it? I am dancing because of my happy state, and doing so, all things I do are coloured with poetic rhythms and sounds that clash about in my brain coming out as this comment, its all so wonderful and exciting, it baffles me, yes it baffles me, myself, me! The comment HAD to be special with such a special poem. Basil, it was used for this theme of old. Yes? Dove dove? Io non sei! Soltanto Annuccia