(Taormina) (Sicilia 24)

I wonder if it was the same level of fear.
to drive them away, to seek out new lives
totally unknown if the seafood would be there
or if aubergines could grow
or if love would ever flourish
like the flowers embrace the hills here.

if it was a constant embarrassment
to be consumed by those thoughts of desperation
if it was to have such minimal lingering hope
that everything could find its way somehow.

I wonder if it was the same level of ease.
to wash up on shores of welcoming faces
summoned to find it and finding it.
and places to eat familiar preparations
and words that grew like covers
warm and blanketing and safe.

if it was a continuous affirmation
to be so fucking certain of the right choice
if it was to have so little remaining struggle
that nothing could get in their road here on in.