Long since abandoned
the village mill
stands with it's wheel
as if on pause
Back in the day
what did the local
farmers bring in
to be ground?
Hard to imagine
wheat or corn
grown on slopes
as steep as these
Wish that Antonio
my wife's bis-nonno
were still around
for us to ask
In nineteen-seven
he'd come back
to Pontori
to sell the mill
And then returned
to San Franisco
bringing along
a second wife
As for the grinding
my guess is chestnuts
the flour used
for poor folk's bread
Just as the native
Californians
ground ripe acorns
to make their flour
Here in the green
Ligurian hills
the chestnut trees
grow everywhere
I'd love to come
for the fall harvest
it's past now but
perhaps next year