Poetry Jam - Walking Out

Walking Out

In evening light, step out and pad up the alley

Quietly pass the shuttered window of Zia Anna

Smell her pot of gravy and listen -

She’s praying her rosary, the beads clicking

Five doors down, a lace curtain wafts aside

Old Pietro shuffles out, moves toward his stool

He looks sideways at all passers by and puffs

Is it a ‘hello’ or a ‘go to hell, bastardo’ ?

Further on, the scooters lean the walls, looking

Sexy- waiting for soft thighs, rounded bottoms

Ready to rev, belch black smoke and

 Bounce libidinous echoes off ancient doors

The corner brings the square and music

Tables and chairs are set at Papillon

A glass of Strega, a daily newspaper await

The regular on the same evening schedule

Just steps from the airy, rented room

This quiet world unfolds for the stranger

Skipping steps down the stairs and out

Onto the cobbles and into her new life

Luca stops and drops a towel, looking,

Murmurs a ‘Ciao Signora’ and smiles

A question sits behind his eyes and

On his lips, but he swallows, dabs a spill

The Strega is spicy, strong warm ribbons

Warming the throat, crisp inky pages

Pass silent time, bring memories and flashes

And the sun sets and the walk back is golden

Shared at Poetry Jam 

Photo Credit - 'Italian Street Scene' -comic book guy @ Pixdaus.com