Outside, the crisp yellow heat is brittle and breathtaking,
and has just flattened the afternoon.
Inside, there is cool dark red wine,
piles of pasta, platters of cheese & crusty garlic bread
with little plates of olive oil and balsamic,
and fresh ripe fruit – and time.
Time enough for us to talk, leaning in close
Bella’s – as if the very canals of Venice ran by outside.
Not streets of the southern San Joaquin.
Dull car traffic seems to be replaced
by gayly painted gondola poling their quiet way along –
while we sit with elbows on a red checkered tablecloth.
Apropos for Italy to exist here in America,
to not blend in, but to stand out bright,
discrete and insular, its own three-block nation.
Whether Napoli or Cherokee, we are a Nation of Nations
exuding the heady aroma of Difference,
the essence of Diversity.
Michael Theroux’s career has spanned from field botanist, environmental health specialist, green energy developer and resource recovery website editor. Now he is shifting from the scientific and technical environmental field to the creative. He spends his days writing incessantly in his home in Northern California.
Please note: Poetry is compressed to fit smart phone screens. If you are reading this poem on a phone screen, please turn your screen sideways to make sure that you are seeing correct line breaks for this poem.
THE CITY KEY 