The trains stop in Foligno, but if
you have an hour you could lose
a day in the lived in luxury of Italy
writ real. The past clawed at me
through a vibrating phone and I
sat outside a church, wearing air
and peace and Umbria. I wanted
to laugh and ask everyone if they knew
how amazing it was, this November,
this breeze, this chance to exist
away from decisions and so close
to the trains that will always take you
somewhere you want to go.They
would shrug and suggest I cut down
on the cappuccinos, so instead
I stroked a smooth marble lion
and smiled as the sun slid
through the square.
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