ON MY SHOES

Pompeii, Italy

Horses pulled carts down these ancient streets
Rocks and trenches, uncovered now
After centuries of mystical curses
There you see the woodless rooms
On these dusty roadways so old
It rained a torrent in the streets of Pompeii
Here, in the middle of narrow streets
You see stepping stones to cross in floods
And troughs centuries old that wagons rode
Yet the brothel mosaics are almost fresh
After ages of heat and dust on this old mountainside
Long gone is the rumored second floor.
Once this was a kitchen, that a bedroom.
These shelled out, roofless rock caves
Where glassless windows grasped the slightest breeze.
This was Pompeii, in Campania, Italy,
The rich sea brought sailors and good times and riches
Until everything perished under stinging soot.
Under the recreated mummified remains
The dusty brown hound sleeps and dreams of what?
Does he see the ghosts of this terrible nightmare?
Or does he dream doggy dreams of strangers with food?
Hours later we entered Roma weary from our travels
Walk past foreign graffiti into the high class hotel
On my black shoes, the dust of Pompeii

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

******************
Sometimes I Swear In Italian by Anthony Buccino
in print and on Kindle