transition

she had been there, in the heart of Rome,
standing there, in front of the statues
while the sky was whitewashed
by blazing sunlight

"avanti, avanti," the guide had said
and so she had left, without a chance
to change words with the stones
or with her self

instead of a memory, she took
a photo to tint it like dusk,
later, in a night of mediterranean
October rain filled

with the lost tunes
of this place so far away
from where she had been
that day
.