Below the Arch

On cobbled stone A metallic gleam of bubble rose from my smiling face and covered for a second the four rearing horses of ancient kings before bursting flat like the bombs that had leveled this square 70 years before.

Leafing through a book

This poem was originally written on 7/02/2007 The softly falling gently gliding pages that fall from my hands. Eyes that glimpse mere words that mean nothing yet something as they fall away before I can fully grasp them. I smell dust and mold and a newness of the press but I cannot fully know that which…