on a side street burrowed deep
off touristed San Marco, dusty relics
beckon in a shop no larger
than a footprint. I join the urbane owner,
a musician -- hair like Mozart, an artist
in a paint-daubed smock, discussing
Nietzsche, Modigliani, the cafes
in Genoa and Istanbul. We toast
with Sangiovese in styrofoam.
Cento di questi giorni!
a wish for a hundred of these days.
Sarah Russell lives in State College, PA with a curly dog and a patient husband. Her poetry has appeared in Red River Review, Misfit Magazine, The Houseboat, Shot Glass Journal, Ekphrastic Magazine and Poppy Road Review, among others. Follow her work at www.SarahRussellPoetry.com