in september
the shadow of the arcades
is almost too cool

on the plaza
before the Romanesque church
children play soccer

their shouts
   pierce
the quietness

that radiates from the castle
   to the church
   and into the old town
   envelops the few
   customers of the osteria
   makes me want to write
   about us
   and the love in your eyes
over wine & ham
   & white bread
under vaulting walls

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