sipping my bitter orange lemonade
in the rose and terracotta hues
of western italy in early spring
where the sun still shines
and it feels more like summer
we always come here
every year
to this same old café
at the top of the ancient steps
which will probably crumble one day
there's a bench
right outside the café
where an old man sits
with his dog
and talks to the café owner and
a mysterious woman
for hours on end
we don't know how long he sits here for
but it seems he's always here
there's a bookshelf at the back
where you can bring a book,
and take one away
we promised to bring one back last year
and so we did
we only have two hours
but we'll come again next year
this eternal summer will wait for us
and maybe the ancient steps won't crumble
not just yet
the world will remain,
if we only come back to it
