. Tapestry My grandfather Evangelos did trading with the Turks Of pipes and hookahs, hash, and cloths, and skillful carpet-works. A tapestry he gave his wife in Main in nineteen-ten, A secular non-Muslim piece, showed animals and men. In foreground, street-scene, shops and people, harnessed camel clear, A palm, a full-leaved cedar, and a wall of old Izmir. The background, midnight blue with silhouettes of tower and kiosk, And Eastern temple onion-domes that indicate a mosque. Seeing on their great-room wall the woolen tapestry, Caused visitors some doubts about their Christianity; They’d each to one another their suspicions, whispered, tell: “Kalliope and Evangelos have gone to infidel!” But all admired its beauty and its power to impart The great uplifting quality intrinsic to good art. Kalliope gave it to their daughter, it went to her son, Who gave it to his sister in the year two-thousand-one. She treasures the connection to grandparents long since gone. She looks on it, and dear Papou and Yiayia still live on. In years, the tapestry will pass to those of blood-attendance: Great-great-grandson Evangelos and on to his descendants. . Poet's Note on Pronunciation: Kalliope: kal-YOH-peh Evangelos: ev-AN-ghe-los Papou: pah-POO (grandfather) Yiayia: YIA-ya (grandmother). . . Mary Gardner is a poet living in Florida.