Dear Rome...

Dear Rome,

For a while there you were my home.

You, with your fallen pillars

Scattered round the winding streets.

Italians have always been the same you see,

Nothings ever fixed even when your citizens plea.

From the days of Nero till the modern age.

You are riddled with errors like a handwritten page.

You, with your starlings –

Italia’s version of the northern lights –

Dancing like smoke in their flight,

Black as the souls of the emperors that once ruled.

Yes, Rome, for a few months you were my home.

I lived on your hill – The Aventine –

Right beside the park of clementines.

Green and orange and golden views.

My soul to you I will always lose.

The Circo Massimo, the Colleseo, the Palatine,

These marked the streets that lead to mine.

When I say I lived in Rome,

I mean the heart centre was my home.

Allora, Allora.

I lived off Carciofi alla Giudia.

I lived off limoncello drunk friends.

I lived off sundays lounging in Villa Borghese.

I lived off strolls down the Tiber that lead to Trastevere.

I became a part of the orange painted stone laden with vines.

I became one with the driftwood pines

Endlessly reaching to the heavens

Pleading with the gods for their attention.

Does Jupiter still watch over you, dear Rome?

Jupiter didn’t watch over me.

The fire of Rome no longer burns,

And as such I was bidden no return.

I stand in exile still dreaming of your

Starlings – singing, swirling – in the lilac sky.

Dear Rome, come stai?

Sincerely,

A Homeless Wanderer