WAITING FOR THE COMPARE
One day when my father, named for his grandfather Saru,
was a small boy digging, weeding, coaxing crops
with his grandfather in a hot Sicilian field
he asked, “Nonno, when can we eat?”
“When the Compare comes,” was the answer
As the sun passed the highest point in the sky
Saruzzu asked again, “Nonno, when can we eat?”
“When the Compare comes.”
Saruzzu looked up and down the mountain paths
searching for the Compare
who must be coming from far away
walking slowly, maybe holding onto a big bastone
“Nonno, when is the Compare coming?
“Soon.”
Saruzzu scanned the closest road bent down to his work
said, “Nonno, I’m hungry?” Maybe the Compare is not coming!”
“Saruzzu, the Compare has arrived.”
“Where? When? I don’t see him!”
“The Compare is your hunger. He is here.”
They laughed together as they sat to eat
their bread, cheese, and olives.
THE ARGUMENT
One cold December evening
in Sicily in 1908
Maƫa held her baby daughter Misciuzza in her arms
said to her mother Angela
“Ma, give me the keys to my house. I want to spend the night with the baby in my own home.”
“No! You are staying here. I want you both under my roof at night unƟl
your husband returns from America,”
“Ma, please give me the keys. One night is all I ask. I need to breathe. We’ve bickered all day
over the sweeping, the bread, the spices, the dishes, the pots.”
“No! Your husband trusted me to keep you and the baby safe. We can visit your house
in the daylight. At night, you stay here with me.”
They argued a few more rounds unƟl Maƫa gave up
she did not get the keys to her house
her mother as always was firm resolute
In the middle of that night while they slept
the terrible Messina Earthquake of 1908 struck
buildings collapsed, fires erupted, a Ɵdal wave hit
tens of thousands died
San Pier Niceto high in the mountains
where Maƫa and Angela lived
felt the shaking force of the powerful quake
Terrified, Angela, Maƫa, and the baby fled
with other villagers running
into the open countryside
as building collapsed around them
They stayed in the fields as tremor aŌer tremor rocked them
Days later they returned to the village
Angela’s house stood sturdy intact
The whole front of Mattia’s house had fallen into the interior
Mattia my great grandmother
always said if she had won the argument
with her mother that night
she and Baby Misciuzza my grandmother
would have been killed when the wall collapsed
onto the bed where they would have slept
Mattia always said losing the argument
saved her and her baby.
Maria Famà, author of eight books of poetry, is featured in films reading her poetry. She won Second Prize in the 2018 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Awards. Her latest book is The Good for the Good, published by Bordighera Press (2019). Famà lives and works in Philadelphia.
OVUNQUE SIAMO 