Tuscan Summer

 It was all so long ago.  Do you remember ?

So long ago

Among the olive groves

Beyond the vine line

The echo in the valley

Tree lined, dry with stone

“Giuseeeppe! Giuseeeppe!

Dove  Sei ?  Dove Sei?”

I never saw

The putative

Rotundity

Of ma

No doubt clad

In darkest hue

With floury hands

And arms akimbo

But  have her still

In my mind’s eye.

Such a thing

To echo

Down the years

Calling me

To sun kissed days

Beneath the olive trees

Of milk warm

Velvet nights

With fireflies

Shining

In the children’s eyes-

 Another treasured past

To hold against

The colder presence of the future.

A rather rounded font for Mama.