This is it.

And we are sitting on the graves of those who fought
And we are inhaling their last breaths
And we are singing their last words
And we are thinking the thoughts that they left lingering in the air
And we apologize
Because life is unfair
And this is it.

You shout confidently
But I whisper.
And you know what is right
But I am still unsure.
And here we are
On the edge of what they obtained
And we are feeling the pain that they endured
And we are hearing the sounds that echoed in their ears
And we are seeing the sights that reflected in their eyes
And this is it.

No call with no reply.
No questions.
No explanation of why.
And this is it.

And you look at me and see deep to the back of my mind
And you gasp
Because you’ve been warned about things of this kind.
With three arms instead of two
You finally understand the things they knew
And their legacy proclaims what you must do
So you point and follow through…
And this is it.

And we are sitting on the graves of those who fought
And we are inhaling their last breaths
And we are singing their last words
And we are thinking the thoughts that they left lingering in the air
And I apologize
Because life is unfair
And this is it.

Their tears are falling from the sky
And their blood is flowing from your truth
And their voices are calling with the wind
That we were wrong.
That we have sinned.
And my last breath is a prayer incomplete
Because here we are
All these years and we’ve come so far
And yet, here we are
Old feuds, new scars
New wars fought under old stars
Old fields covered in new tar
And we say we’ve come so far
But nothing has changed.
I feel the place in my ribs where your good intentions penetrated
And this is it.

No time left to say what I know to be true
And life is unfair
But I will try my best to leave my final thoughts lingering in the air
So that maybe you will hear them
And this can be it.

It smells like summer on the island
Like laundry and leaves
Like late-afternoon lakewater
And pollen-filled breeze
I remember my summers on the island
The bunkbeds and bonfires
Beaches, bikinis
And dirt roads under dark tires
Birch trees and blackberries
Blue birds and sour cherries
Two hours on the ferry
Summer on the island
Lawn chairs and lemonade
Hammock-hanging, holidaying
Laying in the lazy shade
Hiking high into the bright blue sky
Deep inhale and satisfied sigh
We had been waiting for this
Our summer on the island
Cold tides and closed eyes
Penny candy and pecan pie
Crop-tops, flip-flops, tree-forts and drop-offs
Crayfish, crayons
And breakfast on the dock at dawn
This was summer on our island
Millions of mosquitoes, minnows and movies till midnight
Eating smores in the smoky firelight
Running through the trailer park in the rain after dark
Our summer on this island
Everything was my favourite part
I loved it all
The grass
The trees
The foamy waterfall
Sun, seagulls and sand dunes
Either services or sleeping in till noon
Sweet island summer, over too soon
Summer on the island
Was a lifetime ago
The island was my summer
But I’m letting go.

I have fallen in love
With the air, the trees
The thinly paved and often cracked roads
And even moreso with those covered in cobblestone.
I have fallen in love with the tanned locals
Old shopkeepers with hats and bifocals
Their calling voices
The natural movement of their hands
The cool sea water
And hot white sands.
I have fallen in love with espresso
And how it feels in my throat
The smell of leather
Taste of gelato
Harbours full of fishing boats
The sound of a vintage vespa
Weaving its way through a crowd
The arguing couple, arguing loud
And this is a country of which to be proud.
I have fallen in love with the architecture
The vast and complex history
The more I learn the more I admit is a mystery.
I have fallen in love with the way the sun shines brighter
The air is fresher
And the fruit is sweeter
The men are bolder
And the books are cheaper.
I have fallen in love with the words they say
And how those words effortlessly roll off their tongues
I breathe in their culture
And try to hold it in my lungs.
Pizza, pesto, cute cafes
Absence of anxiety, holidays
The tourists who view it all through a camera lense
Adventure begins and tension ends.
I have fallen in love with it all
Every flower
Every hue
All those pairs of knock-off sunglasses
I love them too.
Every cloud
Every ray of sunshine
Every drop of ***** riverwater
Every painted line
Every brick
Of every church
On all those hills
In all those tiny towns
That populate the green countryside
And every visionary who in them has lived and died
I love
But most of all
I have fallen in love with the version of me
That comes out when I am in Italy