More on Montefalco

In Montefalco, the balcony of a country
where I unfold, the pastels in the sky
sighed into each other. The sun set and
I knew where I was headed and also
where I was not. The ecstasy of stillness
thrummed through me, the lavendar
light rested on the eaves of a small church.
Ruins of castles reached for the last
of the day, like the last cake batter
in the bowl. I closed my eyes. And smiled.