Rosanna Staffa
Where I’m From #29
By Rosanna Staffa
Inspired by George Ella Lyon
I am from a blue Atala bike
From Borotalco Roberts and Coty powder #21
the whiff of candy they left in the bathroom
I’m from watching a snowfall from window to window
Old newspapers piled on a chair and a piano.
I am from yellow tramways and small squares with dripping fountains
Sidewalks smelling pungent,
after a Spring rainfall, skunk.-like
I am from Sunday crossword puzzles, and butterflies
at the window,
No hugs.
Lightning bugs in a jar. A stray cat that was secretly mine.
From Magda Sangineto and Ugo Staffa.
I’m from Magda embroidering my dowry, never too early to start, and Ugo the marvelous dancer
who dragged along a trunk of novels throughout the war.
Tolstoy, Maupassant, Dumas.
Eat slowly and sit up straight.
I’m from playing catch with my brothers in front of an abandoned church.
I’m from Neapolitan barons
and Swedish soldiers with blue eyes
I am from Zeppole sweets at Carnival I fried standing on a chair.
From a father who at the front in Albania said yes to switching places for a furlow, and the boat
that soldier boarded sank in the Adriatic sea.
Always rushing early to trains and events, he died very old
and wanting more time.
From a mother with a cascade of chestnut curls
cupping her chin in her hands with serious eyes
who died too young
for me to see her when I look in my mirror.
I took with me from home to home in a battered box:
her thimble and a frayed prayer book, his mess kit and Modiano Neapolitan deck of cards.
A nest of old feathers, I hide them
high on a shelf in every home.
Where to find Alyson:
Website: https://www.alysonshelton.com
Substack: https://whereimfrom.substack.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/byalysonshelton/
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