must be facing north

coffee at a table in the shade just steps off the tourists path
opposite the long tall blinding stone bone-sunny travertine
of the Cancelleria, with oh-hum traffic on the corner
i scratch out this crude note, having left
tender words of the novels home like lovers
tucked in together, sleeping on the shelf

i sip pondering my next goodbye to Rome
as already summer looms nigh,
with sycamore trees along the Tevere green full
the shadow over me shortens, afternoon sun moves west
this 25 April, Liberation Day, of little clamour
even thieves and beggars are on holiday

stirring my coffee i recall
time on the road with Italian actors
where at bars up and down all of Italy
most stirred their coffee for thirty seconds
so I learned to do as they
and now can smile remembering them