May 15, 2016 § 1 Comment
this moment’s sky,
Palladio’s eternal column.
The immovable past
partnered with the
Italy is a beautiful arrangement of
tortes, gelati, masks, hats,
behind a polished
pane of glass.
Italy is voices pitched high and bright.
A staccato sing-song, loud and ebullient.
Hands thrown wide in amazement.
An arm slung around the shoulders
of a walking companion.
A cyclist’s loud “Permesso!”to pedestrians
who share the narrow
Via San Bastiano.
Italy is an ornate pattern of
light and shadow,
drawn on the worn stone threshold of
The Villa Valmarana ai Nani,
a wrought iron lace gate
that guards the frescoes of
Italy is ambitious plants
growing vertical from the cracks
in an ancient wall.
Mortar crumbling in the hand of time.
Cobblestones polished by
countless errands and the
nightly parade of the
Italy is a web of shared spaces,
a bustle and chatter flowing freely.
A whir, a hum, a clangor of church bells, a chat of birdsong,
a man impersonating a statue of Charlie Chaplin,
his stillness absolute.
Until the children get close.
Then he winks.
And they scream.
And flurry on.
Italy is a collective vibrance.
Public life and private interwoven;
warp and weft.
Italy is a belief that life is a pleasure to be tasted,
savored and shared,
It was impossible not to fall in love with a place so beautiful, so rich in art and history and kindness.
As we said as we made our way to Malpensa Airport in Milan, “Ciao Bella!”
Claudia. thanks for the sibling get-away. It was the best.