in a straight-back, lightly-cushioned chair
in the front room, in the sun,
i can spend the noon hour
thinking of how time has run.

.

challenge

waitress poured me a coffee
so high in the cup
to make it a challenge to balance a sip.

.

It's written there -
Seven, the year of it … how grand.
from dull white into passing age's smoke,
the breath of shouts, fires, and exhaust.
vapors on weathered alabaster turned the chalky blanched monument
the tone of parched and dirty fog.
worn, pocked,portions missing, others in danger of falling ...
this solemn icon known the world over:
The Colosseum

.

Borghese

A camera man setting up,
sun is bright, the day cool.
an hour to go.
fractions of quiet words in many languages
...
all wearing 21st century casual,
there are no dresses.
a few flash haircuts, to the scalp on one side.
the parade passes in masses, then thinner
by the start of the hour to begin
into the Borghese

.