By Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
My people? Who are they?
I went into the church where the congregation
Worshiped my God. Were they my people?
I felt no kinship to them as they knelt there.
My people! Where are they?
I went into the land where I was born,
Where men spoke my language…
I was a stranger there.
“My people,” my soul cried. “Who are my people?”
Last night in the rain I met an old man
Who spoke a language I do not speak,
Which marked him as one who does not know my God.
With apologetic smile he offered me
The shelter of his patched umbrella.
I met his eyes… And then I knew…
(Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni was poet laureate of Arkansas from 1953 to 1970. She was born in Bologna, Italy, on January 5, 1888 but later migrated to the United States with her parents...[more])
Bio source: http://www.encyclopediaofarkansas.net