Pigeons. And a presumed mother and child. Bobbing their heads and walking in silent circles. The sirens blaze constantly and I will be conditioned to smile at the sound before I leave and depart. The Arno to my right, the Piazza de Michelangelo to the Eastish. Enjoy a pizze made my way like Burger King couldnt believe. Witness to the immortal skill of Michelangelo, Donatello and company. First on screen then live in person, always the best way to witness plumage. Park seating, scooters birds breezes and the gushing Arno river completely suround me. I want to cry. I want to cry and smile. This is all I could ask for, minus some sympathetic female company. But "if onlys" are a waste of a perfectly grand situation. I could be just stirring awake. I could be considering what I'd like for breakfast before my abnormal psychology. I could be going "damn, If only I coulda made it to Florence" Look at me now! Even my bad days here are better than good days at Chester.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment