Italian countryside
On my first trip to Europe, I went to Rome and Paris. I spent a week with friends in Italy and explored Paris on my own. The entire time was magical and I've held those days close to my heart since.
POEM
​
Back to Rome
On the way
Robin drove to Dalma
and Giovanni’s country
house. Nestled
behind tall grass and
hill, roosters and chickens
roamed the path
leading to the house
made with smooth wood
and by Giovanni’s hand.
Robin had been crying
all day. I didn’t hear the
quarrel that sent us to
friends. I only heard
the snap from the
stone hearth greeting
us with fire and warmth.
It began to rain.
We heard it on the roof
and Giovanni suggested
we stay. The small boy
watched from his room,
asked me to help him
build something grand
with his toy hammer.
In the kitchen, table set with
linens and painted plates,
candles in brass sticks
anchored the Italian pine slab
as we sipped broth, ate cod,
boiled eggs, a tomato
salad.
Dalma served the
dessert with meringue.
We sat on big white
couches, leaned into
green pillows and golden
light. We drank wine,
spoke softly and then
we kissed goodbye.
molly jane burns