Many of these poems will be of the city of Schenectady from early 1900 to the present.

GENERAL ELECTRIC COMPANY - SCHENECTADY NY - PHOTO provided by F. Duci

Friday, January 14, 2011

MY FATHER'S MORNING

MY FATHER'S MORNING

Grandmother had to be
dancing upstairs in her
kitchen - her radio blaring -
when her friends arrived -
all talking broken English -
my mother. downstairs in
a two family flat said,
"It's too much noise."
But, noise never stopped.

Father, he invested in a
bigger radio - more noise,
unlike Grandmother -
following the death of his
Father – Back then, when
a radio first came to be,
someone died – someone
Italian – tubes were removed
since it was a “new tradition”
to remove all the tubes
from a big radio in her
parlor – “Respect,” was why.

Father never listened
to the "War of Worlds."

On the day Father's Father
died, it had to be the
worst day of his life. . .

His Father laying in
their marriage bed; in Sicily
all beds slept in by husband
and wife were a marriage
bed –

Father saw his Father’s
head resting on a pillow
a pillow stitched by
Grandmother's hands
"I Love You," in Italian.
My Grandfather, his head resting
on this pillow - motioned for his
son, and whispered his last request.

"One more cup of water
before I die."

Grandmother at the door
to the front porch, paying
the milkman, a pison’ a
person called pison in
Sicily, was special – as close
to a relative as one could be.

On the front porch – I am
sure Grandmother was
talking, maybe laughing
when her son came running
down the steps –

Her son, still not shedding
tears – as he said, “Papa, he
is dead.”
-
My Father grabbed his
Mother's arm, pulled her up
the staircase – her pison’
followed, as she walked
down a hallway to their
bedroom – laying over his
body, she wept, she screamed,
she looked up to God, asking
why? No one could pull her
away.

Father's youngest brother,
he sank to the floor as his body
leaned against a wall – tears in
his eyes watching the scene of
death.

Father’s middle brother stood
near the doorway – staring I
guess, at his Papa, his Mama
as she touched his Papa.
A empty cup of water placed
on top of their bed stand, empty.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved
1-14-2011

2 comments:

moochami said...

i like it ,and i like the family relationships in Italy .we can see how the family is connected from u Detailed description and the Poetic images.good u family brought it to America with .

Nancy Denofio said...

Thank you Moochami I am very pleased you took the time to read my work. And you are right, it brings back a time when immigrants made america, and how times change. I am attached to the past since I grew up with my grandmother until she was 95. Sincerely Nancy