Into estate

Il biondo tevere more like a bruise’s pale green after one week and above Fatebenefratelli the maw and cry of gulls but O! Deus sol invictus! and with you what heat (unsure as to adjectivals how choose: ambrosial, amber, citrine, golden or gold) wandering across what’s left of the medieval city and that of the Empire now here and there thistle, paper-like poppy, even caper (what flowers bloom from out of roofs) I even found a photograph of myself, dated 1999, posed I think there under plane tree shadow at the base of that bridge – but what is it really that is left?

copyright Miseraestupendacittà 2010


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