By Abby Hanks
I was planted an eternity ago,
By a little Italian woman with dusty rooms to be rented.
She welcomed the world into her home and planted me as her guard,
Buongiorno! Buona Giornata! Buonasera!
My roots began to push against her terracotta bowl,
In the sunshine, I sprouted, and in the night, I glistened.
My buds burst into pink blooms,
I sought to copy the blush of the Sorento sunset.
Foreigners pass me by,
Often without a glance.
They lean over the iron fence,
While I am tethered.
I long to live with the flora on Capri,
Where bountiful and bright blossoms dance in the sunlight.
I lean into the skyline,
Yearning to uproot and soar beyond the shore.
But from time to time,
A wanderer will notice my colors.
They will bend down and admire my blossom,
As they include me in their portrait of the sea.
Grazie.