ANGELA COSTI

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RETURNING

The ceiling fan cuts and pastes memories
the photo album is playing excited host
Anna's plate is draped with sweets, fruit, meat
glass never emptied of the Island's best
carrying a full smile all day, her body tattooed with sweat
Uncles and Aunties steer Anna's eyes to the mountains
away from the check point, the border control guards
away from the Island's wound that never heals
they speak like parrots in brittle cages
about the billy goat running into the kafenio
about the ripe carobs drooling like large fangs
only Yiayia pours honesty into Anna's cup
coffee mulled with hurt, a dialect of undying lament
'As quick as lighting a candle, kissing a saint
they stained our homes with their mud
we left our pantries full of fresh food
we left our tables set for dinner, our bread baking
they ate, slept, danced to our music
each family received one coffin.'
Anna holds those chattering hands
the moon flicks barbarian shadows
the old eyes are Anna's, she seeps tired tears
tomorrow they will hoard what is left of their future.