Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 14
Fall to me, all you streets of Rome,
With your embrowned oils from torched walls and breccia of shadows,
The pizzicato of stairways and afternoon slowly closed
Like the thick, leathery-echo from this book of all roads.

Fallen, smoldering empire of storefronts and back-shop heirlooms,
Your lupine hills unbound with milk of cur in the wind and woods,
To your fallow fields rowed deep by a conquest of oars,
To the deepest silence and soot-muted oneness of Pompeii,
And a sky that is an ancient coin, without worth,
But still rubbed smooth at the edges by overfond lovers.
Yes, more Rome.

For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Chris Saitta
Written by
Chris Saitta  49/M/Virginia
(49/M/Virginia)   
    1.2k
         Dennis Willis, Feggyr Citack, Eloisa, Lama, Liz and 23 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems