NaPoWriMo-day 8

write a poem in monologue by someone who is dead, remembered from my childhood. 

 Mr. Servillo by arlene s bice

I was the vegetable & fruit man

pomodoro, peperone, melanzana, l’asparago

carota, spinaci, fungo, zucchina, carciofo

I grew most, carried to your door every week

fresh in season displayed in my open wagon

painted green, red wheels, colors of Italia

clop, clop, clop, down tarred streets of Trenton

drawn by my faithful horse, last one standing

cars and trucks slowed down, drove around me

lots of room in those days, sharing the roads

I was the last one rambling “verdure! frutta! qui!”