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FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2015

Poetry

The Harbor of the World
- O. Arieti
Those Italian Boys
- I. Backalenick
Friendless Featherheads
- G. Beck
Spailpin
- K. Cain
Fashioning
- J. Campbell
King Street Comanche
- B. Foster
Santi
- L. Giulianetti
Poets Out of Service
- M. Johnson
Irish Farmer
- L. Kumar
Communion Portrait
- J. Lagier
Away
- M. Lisella
Connemara 2004
- C. Lloyd
Carrying Grandpa
- M. Lyon
The Saying of Mass
- C. Moore
Taking You home
- J. Mulligan
Departures
- P. Murray
Yiaprakophela
- P. Nicholas
Resurrecting Easter Sunday
- L. Pierro
Dublin Spirts
- F. Polizzi
Nun Ponnu/They Cannot
- N. Provenzano
Kate
- K. Retzlaff
Refuse
- C. Steinhoff
Strawberry Pickers, Cyprus
- J. Tarwood
Melina's Tarverna
- B. Thomas
No News
- R. Tremmel
Signs
- R. Volz
Broadway Bagel
- C. Wald
Taking My 8-Year-Old Daughter to Hear Seamus Heaney
- L. Wiley
My Mother Had a Relationship with Good Bread
- C. Young
Sicilian Traces
- A. Znaidi

FEILE-FESTA
Spring 2015

Prose

Augurina
- J. Amato
Moving Day, 1897
- D. Corrigan
My Madeleine
- F. Dunne
A Review Of Italoamericana: The Literature Of The Great Migration, 1880–1943
- G. Fagiani
The Immigrant's Grandson
- J. Giordano
Review of The Glass Ships
- R. Crupi Holz
A Sunday Afternoon
- R. Iulo
Dark Idyll
- T. Sanfilip
The Choir Book
- G. Sullivan
Review of My Two Italies
- T. Zeppetella

Featured Artist
Richard Holz


BIOGRAPHIES

Contributors


















Maria Lisella


Away

Seven-year-old me basks
in the moment –
I am the only child tagging
along with you, holding hands
on a quiet street where there are
no cars, no traffic lights,
no dogs or people – just us.

We were going to visit someone
who, I can’t remember.
It may have been spring
as we walk without coats
swinging our arms in synch.

You carry a gift bag
We are both happy
to be away from home
Out of the sight of your mother,
my grandmother

whose limitless scolding
up the stairs to our three-room
apartment shared by six
has you trembling
each time she summons
you to the top of the stairs.

You are saved by the steps
she cannot climb.
For her it is enemy territory
inhabited by you, your children
and the man you married,
the eternal outsider.

You are smiling and going
away from the house
we’re holding hands under the sun
on our way to a place I cannot name.