• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 09


Come brother, let us play
the old songs
in the golden light of
a new setting sun,
our hearts and voices
filled with welcome
for friends and family
who will dance and feast
on sweet tomatoes and home-made pasta,
washed down with warm wine.
And let us all give thanks,
and sing out praises,
to those who came before,
with nervous trepidation,
and hopeful courage,
to a strange land,
there to build a new life
so that we may sit
in homely comfort
playing our tunes
to the accompaniment of a singing kettle.