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Tag Archives: Tripoli
Refugee
We left our home in novecento left padrone and prominenti ‘Ndrangheta and the priests the almond trees for golden streets. I wasn’t born with dreams like yours; tending trees I would never own; almond butter, a crust of bread before an … Continue reading
Posted in family, Poetry
Tagged almond trees, boat people, coming to Italy, dreams, happy children, Hope, Italy, Lampedusa, Libya, old age, Palermo, poetry, refugees, rescuing refugees, Sicily, small house, syria, Tripoli
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toritto 