Alia

Alia

My middle name

is a town in Sicily

I found on a National

Geographic map, not far

from Piazzo Cangilosi. So close

to my grandfather's name--Congilosi,

meaning with jealousy. Paired with NaNa's

maiden name--Amato, meaning beloved,

their arranged marriage lasted fifty years.

My middle name

is a town in Sicily,

where I have never been, close

to the seaport of Carini where

I dreamed myself into the olive

groves my PaPa spoke of over endless

cups of coffee, promising me Sicilian

lemons, big as oranges, twice as sweet.

My middle name

is a town in Sicily,

the name of a sprawling Seattle

family I've heard of, never met,

yet feel a part of. Part of this family,

that town I've never walked, this name,

those people I haven't found. I feel

connected by the syllables of our name,

as if the alphabet could direct me

to my origins.

My middle name

is a town in Sicily,

a word that means gift in Hebrew,

as in to make an offering in the temple,

which is lovely until I wonder if only men

are allowed to do this, so I change the subject.

My middle name

Is a town in Sicily, a word

Which means noble in Arabic and other in Latin,

The name of a dead Jordanian Queen and a Saudi airline,

A woman's clothing line in Vancouver and a lovely

Singer who died too soon.  I reflect on fate and time.

My middle name

is a town in Sicily,

A pet name a sweet friend I met too late calls me,

Somehow making me his and he, mine.  I lament

The tricks of fate and the limits of modern time.

My middle name

is a town in Sicily

I plan to see one day, please

soon. A place I hope to find

faces I can trace in my own,

faces who will return my smile, faces

who will welcome me home.  

~Maura Alia Badji