Roman Holiday – Poem #138 – From the Archives – For Italy

Rome will always be here
eternal, imperishable
unlike fresh fruit or cheeses
or the days of our lives.

A dank catacomb
the Colosseum, Appian way or
that monastery of the cloistered ones
where bastards were abandoned by shamed mothers.

Or that hill near the Tiber
a landfill of wine bottles; trash
the ancients left us to gush over
and show us that they lived.

But after spaghetti with clams
and sea bass,
wine and grappa
stuffed mushrooms and gelato

I am seated at Caffe Greco
an ancient Roman coffee house
a piano that Rossini played
where Goethe scribbled poetry.

Having wolfed down
fried cod a la Romana
tortellini and vino rustico
one can excuse me
for passing on the dank, the history and the ruins

They’re not going anywhere
the polished marble and stone walls;
I’m young after all, in the Spring of life
and tomorrow is another day.


About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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4 Responses to Roman Holiday – Poem #138 – From the Archives – For Italy

  1. Thom Hickey says:

    Enjoyed your reflections here.

    Wishing you many more healthy tomorrows.

    Regards Thom

    Liked by 1 person

  2. beetleypete says:

    I felt a little like that in Rome. Mostly after too much of that Grappa, and some Limoncello too. 🙂
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Jennie says:

    The words of a young man. Ah, those were the days.


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