Dispatches from Italy #3: Il Movimento

Welcome, readers, to the third dispatch in our series from Italy! In this post, the student poets of G.B. Vico Junior High School share poems that synthesize the themes of the previous dispatches (you can find #1 here and #2 here). Having examined themes of clarity and obscurity, we now turn to a set of poems that explore the idea of motion, il movimento: that we, and everything around us, are part of a constantly shifting reality. These are poems that mark the interplay of metaphorical light and shadow, of knowing and not knowing, especially through observing nature, seasons, and the evolving self.

In the poems below, the poets meditate on the literal and metaphorical characteristics of change. In “The Four Cypresses” and “The Snow,” Fabio and Tommaso study wind as it brings the possibility of change to a stand of trees and to city streets, respectively. Although neither speaker tells us what the change actually is, they invite us to consider who and what might be different in the moments to come. With “The Tree” and “The Flower,” Riccardo and Giulia consider growth processes of plants and what we might learn about ourselves from observing such processes that transform beings, over and over. Finally, Niccolò and Alessandro invite us to consider the eternal – a time scale far beyond a human life, yet one that shapes our experience of the world as we move through it.

Thank you to the amazing student poets who have bravely shared their words with us here so far. We hope these dispatches have helped you feel inspired to see the world with fresh eyes!

The Four Cypresses
Fabio B.
The tall cypresses
dancing in the wind.
And the house watches them,
Sleepy and defenseless.


The Snow
Tommaso L.
The city wakes up
covered by thin layers
of white silk.
The children run to school
under the gloomy sky that
watches them from up above.
A strong wind
moves faster and faster
in the crowded streets.


The Tree
Riccardo C.
Green and full of leaves in the summer
it branches off
creating new pathways.
It grows and grows
surrounded by the green grass,
but in winter
bare and grey
it is as blank as a sky with no emotions.


The Flower
Giulia B.
I am the flower
with colorful petals,
moved by the wind
that makes them fly away
along with my own insecurities.
Just like a flower,
I still have to blossom
to show my true colors.


Niccolò M.
Love is a shelter
where you take refuge not to feel alone.
Love is a shield,
the strongest weapon
against loneliness.


To you, in two thousand years
Alessandro T.
You have waited.
The paths left behind generate memories of two thousand years .
You are on the verge of vanishing, like I did.
I have looked for you beyond the sea
but you were not there.



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.