My daughter speaks Italian
Italian to her friends
My daughter speaks Italian
to her friends.

They gossip in espresso chuckles
and gesture, moving mouths
in ways I almost understand.

My daughter speaks Italian to her friends.

Eleven months in Rome
she formed pastry shells
round chocolate vowels
and covered the ancient streets
in country bred strides.

Home now, it seems, perhaps,
trailing rebellious sandal straps,
she pouts, defining her role
with foreign amusement
and familiar gestures and laughter.

I feel Italian, too
and young and reckless.
We speak Italian together.
- (tho to you it might sound English)

My daughter speaks Italian to her friends.