Ripening
Content on my bench in Lecce’s Parco Belloluogo, I tipped back my head– but leapt to my feet on seeing...
Content on my bench in Lecce’s Parco Belloluogo, I tipped back my head– but leapt to my feet on seeing...
Past her foreign words I couldn’t catch, the barista’s smile reached me. I perceived an unseen strand flash bright between,...
During language class the church bells seem to peal in Italian, a tone so spumy in the Puglia air, I...
Tomorrow before dawn, I leave for the land of my Italian ancestors. I think of Thich Nhat Hanh at age...