Seated at my desk
under the bright light path
of an old lamp
I am taken away
listening to
arias from “La Traviataâ€_x005F_x005F_x009d_
my pen
runs fast
on the white sheets of paper
with beautiful handwriting
word after word
all around antiques
reassuring friends
of a recent past
in the passing
of time
how much I desire
a tear
of Rosolio
