At every turning

I counted the columns of the Temple -

Each one was pitted by time -

Like tall trees made of stone -

Marked by long winters -

At every turning in the city -

I walked with my two darlings amongst invisible people -

Past churches, palaces, broken colonnades -

Feeling the rain on our faces -

Walking towards the fountain -

When we, too, would become memory - 

Rome 

Temple of Hadrian

April 2025

At the Ristorante L' Arcano

We left the murmuring air of the Pantheon -

High above us, the dome had let in the sky -

In the Via dei Pastini I still heard the whispers of the city's gods -

We walked towards the Piazza di Pietra -

Wallace had two coins in his hand -

We sat for a while outside a sleek ristorante -

We felt the first drops of a soft rain -

Sophie wore yellow -

She charmed the waiter with her smile -

She and Wallace were the stars in my dark heavens -

My tongue was mute with love -

Rome 

April 2025

Taken from a dream

It was still light when we landed -

The wings of the jet were pale wands -

The first stars glimmered above the terminal -

In the long snaky queues to the passport control I heard a boy say va bene -

We waited for the courtly ufficiale -

Sophie smiled her beautiful forgiving smile -

In the taxi, I sat behind the driver -

I closed my eyes, remembering clouds - 

It grew dark when we were on the autostrada -

We drove towards the city - 

Over the carriageway there were illuminated signs -

Ostia, Fuimicino, Roma -

Each wonderful name taken from a dream -

Approaching Rome

April 2025

Wallace would always take my Queen

Wallace and I played chess in the white jet -

Whilst Wallace took my Queen we were flying over mountains -

Later we played in the house with arched windows - 

His dangerous Knight leapt over my stolid pawns - 

Each morning we played this noble game -

I would sip the espresso Wallace made for me - 

Sophie would butter a ciriola -

We would set out the pieces -

Wallace would always take my Queen - 

Travestere 

Rome 

April 2025

Every night we ate pasta

Every night we ate pasta in a louche osteria - 

Sophie and I would drink aperol spritzers -

The louche darkness would fill the mazy alleys -

Beautiful ragged girls would wear skirts made of cobwebs -

Their lean tattooed boys would lounge on church steps -

Wallace would talk football with the ragazzo of a waiter -

Inside the osteria I'd see the doomed lobsters in their tank -

Jazzmen would play in the piazza -

Sophie and Wallace would play cards -

A pale moon would glimmer in the Trastevere sky -

Trastevere 

Rome

April 2025