persistent stillness
on Via Baullari.
some vehicles pass, and the electric bus
fewer than most days;
tourists also, and workers.
after nine in the morning
day has begun.
chairs out front Angelo's
ciao to Simone
there is an internal warmth, a kindness,
that radiates unseen and unacknowledged
to us, from Angelo and Simone
this is the understanding of our days.
a dark cappuccino and a cornetto with apple
weather is what you interpret as warmish
Thomas is off to draw near villa Borghese
fine pen and ink lines of buldings,
and we watch Murella up the street
who won't see us today, our usefulness has diminished.
here is the German woman
at the next table, close enough to reach out and touch,
who never sees us, yet is internally aware.
she's the neighbor who brought the blanket and threw it over
Leonardo
the day he was on fire outside my door, and i put out the
flames with my hands,
and we've never spoken a word about it.
this is the street i am on today this 28th of November in
2014
dry between the rains, no wind
not cold, not warm.
on the cusp of whatever is coming next
