Waking up in Como Italy
Falling through the cracks
memories around blind corners
skipped pages in a book
a day that is not a holiday marker
any other time of the year
not Valentines , St. Patrick’s’ Day
Mardi Gras, Easter, Memorial Day, the 4th
Labor day, Halloween, Thanksgiving
was like the day we entered Italy.
As a married couple
needing nothing else
but the rain, each other,dinner
and a place to sleep.
The next morning, day nine
wet drenched Como
thunderstorms circle the Duomo ceiling
stories and stories above us
galoshes and children covered in plastic clothes
Phil barters for an umbrella
wanting just to buy one
but caught between a language and a price
he can’t understand.
The man who served us coffee calls out
from a horizontal window in the rain
to the vendor Phil is trying to purchase an umbrella from.
We win somewhere closer to the barrista’s price
the two of us go on, huddling in the rain.
We collect language along with appetizers
from place to place, five spots for dinner
just to talk to the people of Como more.
I can speak Italian if Phil can listen
and together we can have what we want.
I wrote a year ago:
The saturated color of buildings and the wet bottoms of pant legs climb up to my heightened sense of curiosity. How do I spend time wandering? I have to have a certain amount of time secured if I am to really let go and enjoy doing nothing. Sensing my whereabouts and wandering from pannini eating to puddle dodging. When the rain comes, the world is smaller, and less likely to be waiting on you outside.
We stayed at In Riva Al Lago. People in the Duomo searching for their faith or something better to do. All anyone wants is for it to be done yet the focus is lost on what you are doing. I question, How do I like to spend my time and how should I spend it when I’ve employed myself with a job to do? With no worries there is always a way.