← v7n1, Spring 2008Poetry · Volume 7, Number 1
Messina
Take Messina: you’d be impressed and even sad
that I remember. The crag of mottled faces
In Messina you’re alone‚ available‚ the youth
in your face still rising. As if there’ll be no end
to youth and solitude‚ the sea below Messina
answers: solitude is beauty‚ even after you
Messina? I have never been. You told the story
quickly when I loved you; now here it is
exactly as you left it‚ its old stone faces
alternately old and then like children‚ elated by a fallen tooth.
