The wind she howls.
Where? Who knows?
Sun burns me up,
She cools me down,
On this hot summer day.
I sway with her.
How? To and fro'
She bends my boughs
But never breaks
A sapling on my fringe.
And when it rains hard,
I drink.
When she blows hard,
I think
That I'm the tree
She'll never uproot.
She admires how I sway
And the fact that I stay
Put, in the face of her bluster.
(2006)
One More Article / Un Altro Articolo
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Over the years teaching at La Scuola d’Italia NY, I have learned that
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