Gypsies
I ate gelato in Firenze
in the shadow of a cathedral
whose name I could not recall.
And gypsies, their wide skirts spread before them,
begged in Italian, words I did not know.
But what was I to do --
I did not understand their voices
and they did not recognize my hair
as their own.
Copyright © Sam Mayhue | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment