In a foreign land

Ongoing project.

Like many Sicilians forced to emigrate, I feel like an “out of place” person, a foreigner in my own home.

I’m growing old, old without you. Mother, landscape of my heart, architect of my body, what other gesture can I conceive to make with it that would reach you, alone in your house and waiting, across this improbable forest peopled with wolves. (Olga Broumas)