We  used to live by an ancient Roman road
where chalk gave way to clay
then to grandfather’s fertile garden,
  lemon trees and vines.

Now we walk in the footprint of the Legions
passed the iron age fort
toward the setting sun, squinting into the night
for signs of good fortune; an eagle wheeling westward home.

As we awake to the scent of dew,
passed the place where Brutus met his end
  a nation walks away from the homeland,
it’s web of common roads and famine.

How can I leave my land
where I loved nothing more
than flying a kite with my children,
wiping the oil off of wild pistachio fruit?

My legs grow stronger now,
carrying our burdens to Roman land
thinking not of return from whence we came
for my son is smiling, wild berries bleeding on his teeth.


About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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1 Response to Exodus

  1. beetleypete says:

    You get to the heart of those mass migrations, Frank. Great work as always.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

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