Creative Voices

By Angelica Erskine / Contributor | | Edited by Alexandra Nava-Baltimore 

I wonder as I wander through the maze  

in Rome, cobbled, and old, did your feet land 

here too? Did they tread the same stones, mired  

in bones, I muse, as I muster a thought  

of love, lost to war, yours to battle, mine too. 

Separated by an ocean the sea 

of love consumes, yet love ensues, loveless, 

and in pain, I hear the starling’s refrain,  

like you must have, years ago, under old 

Fresco’s, near Bruno in the brisk days sun. 

Did you taste bitter tears that roll, and drop,  

for a love that is lost, as life rolls on,  

muddled like the sweet rose under my foot,  

at Campo di Fiori; are you here? 

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