My mother lived between two worlds.
In Rome,
Where the folds of family
And the beauty of antiquity
Resided,
And Canada,
the place my father chose
to move to,
in search of something
my mother had no part in.
Somewhere between these two worlds
Lay a promise.
Spoken,
And as words do,
They fall somewhere between promise
And
Pause.
My mother waited to return
To her birth place.
An ache
Bone deep
And earnest,
I still feel it inside me today.
Cellular memory.
My mother’s memories.
Un mondo lontano,
She would sometimes murmur,
Knowing how unreachable it was.
She never did return to the place
Where language and life intertwined
Into something that was whole and sacred,
Sustaining her.
I carry her
mondo lontano,
Inside me.
But somewhere between her world and mine,
I have found
My place.
Julie Cavicchioli studied English Literature and Creative Writing at York University. She is a poet and English teacher. She lives in Burlington, Ontario.
