Sicily Evening

Italia we strolled the country side throughout the villages of Sicily peeking through stone ways above garden nooks of Puglia catering to the soft and sensual galleries of floral canvases that covered scented walk ways gathering the divine taste of hidden vines borrowed by rows and rows of lemon trees pricking my fingers on olive bushes again while we dazzled the evening air beneath the moonlight both my aunts my grandmothers sister managed to travel from Mason Vicentino just for our annual first date as they chuckled hardily at your vagabond loafers mocassini's moccassini's making your cheeks blush while looking over the balconies peering down the cobble stones this ritual is always carried out religiously completely steadfast as everyone sits patiently awaiting my return my Nonna swaying to the tarantella as soft chiffon curtains blew in the breeze this fabric was sent from France by my grandfather still serving in the Army my shyness remained intact trying not to fall over wearing my oldest sisters clogs she insisted that I promised not to scuff them on this grand evening finally returning to the calming comforting busom of my family culture heritage Italia Italia and the purity of my own chastity covenant why until matrimony celebration like all the women in the family before me according to my Nonna we are a of rare Greek Italian Masons and Muses I suppose while i finally arrived lovingly embraced by sheer wholesomeness tradition the surety of home