Ellis Island Elegy - Poem by Alicia Patti
All the Old Timers are gone now
gone with the babushkas and the mandolins;
nevermore the tarantella or boring bocce games
played by the devoted.
Sadly lost are summertime block parties,
redolent of Italy’s seasonings;
scratchy records playing Dino and Sinatra:
benevolent hymns to the glory of the homeland,
ancient loudspeakers echoing
in mournful nostalgia.
Colorful Saint Day Parades
through cobblestoned streets, precarious
at best, are passé too.
The Madonna has been laid to rest,
along with her son, never again
to rise on Easter morning:
They have broken the backs of those old timers
and, to the rest of us
Ellis Island is but a memory.
Comments about Ellis Island Elegy by Alicia Patti
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You