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ARCHEOLOGY
On a belated honeymoon in Italywe wandered around the Roman Forumamazed at the ruins, imagining how theylooked once, how they had fallen so, eatenaway by time and endless stares of touristswho only wanted to touch history as ifit would grant them momentary immortality.Friends visiting Turkey sent picturesof the Hagia Sophia and that, in turn,returned my…
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SISTER
I can picture her sittingin her small apartmentholding a cup of tea.This is Parma, or perhaps,Milan, two of the threecities I visited in Italy.Her hair is long, grayand white, her smile pained.She does not know I existbut we share so much,a father we never metfirst and foremost.We will never meet,for she, too, may be dead…
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ROBBIE
He left and we never saw the departure coming. We knew he would leave sooner or later, but not now. We had planned on his visit. We knew he meant he was coming. We knew he might just show up. He traveled on snap decisions. It might be here, it might be Paris or Italy.…
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WANDERING NO MORE
In my dreams I wanderedthe alleys of Lisbon searchingfor a familiar face, and manycame close, but no man stopped meand asked if I was, by chancehis son, for he dreamed Iwas what a son of hiswould look like. Now I have no need to wanderfor I know he is ina military cemeteryin Burlington, New Jersey,and…
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an old writer and his words 