afternoon turning evening
twilight quiet
January damp
meet Mauro in the
covered pass
beyond the Buddhist church
under twin aged stone arches
to him my email with parting wishes
as he heads to the
south pacific
on a quest to find
his way
then campo dei fiori nearly empty
this cobblestone field of flowers
when a friend of
twenty years stops.
we exchange new year greetings
good words, good
minutes between us
always satisfying is our
exchange
never knew each other’s names
but know a friend
when we see one
then i see nico, he barely sees me
his hearing also is wavering
one hundred years and counting, on this
street he was born and lives alone
somehow an empty city
bringing friends together briefly
passing in the light fading cool
of yet another winter late afternoon
