who walks the earth like a goddess.

From then on, my grandfather’s wife
occupied the foreground of his life.
He worked hard to make her rich.
Prosperity came to them,
the next generation was born,
and the old world withered like a dying olive tree.
But not for good.

Decades later, weakened by cancer,
my grandfather was sitting on a park bench
in Hartford, Connecticut when a man
in a wheelchair stopped under a nearby tree.
With him were two male attendants.
Antonio watched them warily
until he was sure it was the man
who murdered his father, stricken now
with paralysis. The two men with him
both deaf-mutes, appeared to be his sons,
and they were having an argument in sign language.

Asking his parents for forgiveness,
Antonio walked quietly away
His American journey
was finally over,
but it was much too late
to go home.