ROME

In Rome
I saw no Coliseum or cats
No hand of God drawn by the maestro
In the Sistine Chapel.

I saw only the cracked ceiling of the stanza
Whereupon I traced out my destiny
With fear and regret

The space was filled by morning
And you—restless
Over your vino or cappuccino
Wondering where to draw a line
to or from me

You drew a circle instead
me on the outside

I drew myself there too

On the ceiling before I left Rome

A lifetime ago

Without seeing the Coliseum or the Sistine Chapel

What is at the top of the Spanish Steps? 

                                                                                (Rome 1972)            

AGAIN

                     And again

               into a dark passage

               all night

               the moon bright

               moves across the sky

               toward morning

               may this dark passage

               like a lunar pilgrimage

               lead us into light,