The Writers Club
A Library of Creative Writing
WEEPING FOR SICILY
by: Salvatore Amico M. Buttaci
For the land that is barren,
The trees without olives,
Vineyards unyielding,
We weep, we weep.
For your children all leaving
On trains to big cities,
Mothers and fathers,
We weep, we weep.
For the hot sun upon us,
The rain hardly falling,
Mountains on fire,
The poor and the tired,
The old who are lonely,
The piazza now empty
We weep, we weep.
For those moments unfriendly,
Long days slowly crawling,
Swift years that wear wings,
Old songs we stopped singing,
Dark eyes filled with longing,
A laughter grown quiet;
We weep, we weep
For what life has denied us,
For the graveyard inside us,
For houses all empty
Of your daughters and sons.
Somewhere in London
Go letters unanswered.
We weep, we weep
For promises broken,
High hopes left unopened,
These tears that are choking,
we weep for you, Sicily,
© Copyright 1998 by Salvatore Amico M. Buttaci
All rights Reserved
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