mid week

cloudy dark rainy cool mid week
our lane up and down
more than a hundred yards end to end
and thousands of years back to the beginning

our building rooted five hundred years ago
yet there are far older for sure
nearby is a building from the twelfth century
painted, cracked and redone countless times
the old salt road of pre time is nearby
how far have the old ones gone?

tonight night lights are few along the way
all is still, even breeze so light
buses are resting
cabbies are reading, waiting, near sleeping

no one out this moment,
no one walking
no dog, no cat
through narrow alleys
silent dark walls, cobblestones
still puddles barely reflecting dark gray
can’t begin to imagine a part of
what has taken place
on this brief length of Roma

home to so many over the centuries
in fights, in love,
birth and death
chickens, cows, carts, pigs and horses
dogs and cats birds, bugs, and rats
soldiers, drunks, candles, thieves and beggars
papas, mamas, priests and nuns
singers, poets, police, officials, the dandies
and nobodies
most of all
plenty of no bodies at all

a treasure of life
that endures