Saturday, November 19, 2005

Morandi E Milano

One Picture (out of two)


Oh, it's all clear to me now!
I know, finally, from where my melancholy derives
I saw it expressed on Mediterranean canvases
in forms of rusted bottles
- buried brushes in the garden -
before I was born
And now my sister's childhood becomes three dimensional
She dances innocently around a pale vase with red roses and blue violets
Now my mother's pregnancy is there and I'm back in her womb
Now I see the sunsets of the summer of '62 in my parents' neighborhood
And it's time
I am kicking but the midwives misunderstand my signals
"Let me stay in", I cry
"It is July and it's too hot and much too bright for my soul"
I think they hear me so they wait, not too long,
just barely till August enters
But the fools don't know that it's not yet August in Berlin,
in London, in Connecticut...
My mother is relieved
"The first baby of the month"
"He's weighty... "
"I Remember You" on the radio

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