The Roman sky.
Smiles on their faces: mothers and little children.
Where are their men?
Tourists all over
The ancient Roman walls
Taking pictures and pictures and pictures…
Where are their souls?
Cuddled in their desolate coats
Dust in their wrinkles…
Where are their homes?
The angel up above has lost its sword…
When will I learn to fly?
This poem was originally published in Remus’s Literary Journal, Volume II