What they say in Avenale
[ poetry - january 06 ]
This house - nobody knows how old.
I lived here - says Pierino through toothless gums - for twenty years.
A strange house - says Franco - as we climb
through animal stalls and wine cellars.
This part - points Pierino - has stone behind the rendering.
Over there will be brick.
The house, skin pulled and stretched.
Old bones broken and re-set.
Now air blows through. Stone floors swept.
Insides polished. All ship-shape.
Yet no earthquake will shift this house - says Mirko.
As light fades and swallows swoop
over the fig trees, I say
This is Eden. Must there be