Atterrando

They never find him, his body thrown in a mass grave, I don't know, I was never asked. Tonight I fry la torta di polenta, the cake of bones, tomorrow we will have minestra di niente, soup of nothing. And I think of my mother telling me about the bitterness of greens and what they bring to your life: rapini cicoria She opens my mouth and shoves those bitter greens in, "swallow all of it," she says, "It will make you a bitter woman." Carmela Delia Lanza