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 all filled by morning

And you—restless

Over your vino or cappuccino

Wondering where to draw a line

to or from me

You’ve drawn a circle instead

me on the outside

Lifetimes ago

I drew myself there too

On the ceiling before I left Rome

Without seeing the Coliseum or the Sistine Chapel

What is at the top of the Spanish Steps? 

                                                            (Rome 1972)

                                    

                  And again

               into a dark passage

               all night silver bright

               the moon shone

               moving across the sky 

               toward morning

               may this dark passage

               take me 

               like a lunar pilgrimage

               into light