I find myself
standing
where I stood
over thirty years ago
but not alone
then

before me
displayed
is what was
once or at least
they claimed
the centre of the world
the world they 
had conquered
at least

it is now
a sight most
ordinary
never that
but in the dampness
of St. Martin's Eve
I look back
on love near lost
regained

I wonder
if our children
will ascend
these steps
in humble remembrance
of a time
not of empire
and dominance
but sharing love
not easily gained
but so easily lost

two bambini
pester their parents
for gelati

a lady wrapped
in damp fur
looks down
on her empire lost

and I
shake my cap damp
shrug into
my old tweed coat
tip my cap
saluti
buongiorno

yes it is