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

               the moon bright

               moves across the sky

               toward morning

               may this dark passage

               like a lunar pilgrimage

               lead us into light,