We Will Meet Again
I lament the falling day,
see those swallows soar
to soak those last rays,
as day slips to a golden demise,
a horizon aspired in earnest displays,
as light stolen to the night,
conspires to lay down its baton
in compliance to smiling stars
alight from past.
The bridges over the Arno,
like arms outstretched to embrace
an aged city of grace, arch,
shadows of past in every stone
and medieval trace,
as lights bring the bridges to life,
and footsteps echo in lanes and pathways,
day complete, markets dismantled,
canvas tent stalls remain in the square.
The white marble spires of God
tower over the streets,
as the square lights ignite patrons,
hustle, and rugged up in evening chill
seek the comfort of caffes and ristorantes,
the heart of night,
where stars so bright seek the comfort
of such enduring cities,
such living entities of being.
Wine flows, the smell of pizza and pasta
wafts through the cobble stone streets,
as steps echo and home shutters are closed,
inside the night a warm glow of cultural life,
of family and a daily life
unchanged for centuries;
and through my ruby glass I see the past,
so rich, so fascinating,
in a world of change, it continues.
Firenze, where a piece of my heart remains,
and as the Arno rushes by in the rains,
those bridges stay, like connections to earth,
to the enduring nature of a city not lost in the past
but maintaining it, in the glimmer of the present,
and how I love its essence,
what was and is and will be,
my dreams released
until one day we will meet again.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
World Travel Pictures…front page of website
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A lovely, memorable and welcoming city you portray vividly and so beautifully Tony. Cities of the past in the old world are unsurpassed in beauty. I just wrote a poem of an old town from the past that is now a ghost town in the desert – such a difference from your old town. Wonderful work on this verse.
Glad you enjoyed it Phyllis, yes these places do capture our hearts and live long in memory. Cheers!