Friday, April 6, 2012

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 ...



  1. An atmospheric narrative that lingers. A Whitmanesque long-line format, married to an extremely exacting rhyme structure in your quatrains - AABB throughout the entire poem! - which make for an impressive combination.

  2. oh this is it much as i so enjoy getting 'lost' in a place...and find it renews and refreshes me as well...nicely played to form....

  3. Thanks so much Sam and Brian - I ended up enjoying this more than I thought I would; probably because it took me back somewhere I really wanted to be