Alone in the Old Town

Lost in an old town at mid-day is like stumbling through a maze

And I confess to wandering confused and lonely, in a daze

Being out-of-doors at siesta proved to be a mistake to this I'll swear

And more than once that noon-time, I offered up a silent prayer

In southern Italia the noon sun burns hotter than the fieriest blaze

Landscapes, lanes, buildings - all blur together to create a cloudy haze

But then I thought I saw — a way out! A tunnel - oh my, did I dare?

It was dark and dank, unlit throughout with  stale, unmoving, antique air

Scarcely breathing, I ran through the murk with eyes down and averted gaze

Until at last I was out and  blinded by the Mediterranean sun's bright rays

I stumbled for some moments blinking in the white piazza's glare

Finding finally a stone bench to rest on, both my lonely self and my soul to bear.

In time, my equilibrium restored I looked about and also found a well nearby within my gaze

Refreshed, I began to explore the town's piazza, magnifico, and worthy much of praise

Ubiquitous mourning doves cooed softly from the walls nearby, clinging by the pair

And now recovered and renewed, I at once delighted as the sun moved on, felt I had not a care ...

S.E.Ingraham©