DiFiore, Miriam

A Snail's Dream (Il Sogno della Lumaca)

As a child I watched my mother washing cloth by hand on a board in the tub, on the porch.
In the morning, the shining slime , like starred slopes,
    would reveal the night's trail of the snail on the table.
My mother would say they loved the smell of the soap and they longed for the water.
Before mankind, snails were the fairies of the streams, with long silver hair.
The trails left from their crawling, were their tears.

 

Place:

Bereguardo, Pavia. Low marshy land before the bridge on an early January morning in 2003.
snow at sunrise, fog throughout the day.

Old Washing Board