Greeting of Positano
fresh flowers greeted me when I visited Positano
also the smells of expresso brewing, it was morning
By midafternoon I smelled garlic and onions
I sat at a café where the chef’s assistant greeted me
She offered to pour me wine, red, white, whatever
Italian hospitality is alive and well in this place
We are featuring sausage pizzelle, she told me, it is delicious
Do I smell fresh bread? I asked her. I surely did.
It rained a bit later, and I recognized the smell of leather.
I had not smelled that since my childhood.
Italy will always awaken in me the memory of this day
And the welcoming fragrences of the boulevard.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment