A Pilgrim in Rome

Sky burns, deep and bright,
Shivering like a fever.
Hills arch towards the warmth,
With tall greens and parks
that fill love’s delight.

Slow breeze carries a pantheon
of names, and I hear yours.
Flowing through the trees,
Reflected in firm curves and
fragrance from the leaves.

Temperatures rise and soon
a world of life sings to you.
The cicada’s chirping pace.
The river’s curling sigh.
The ancient city’s roar.

Sky burns, deep and bright,
Shivering like a fever.
Air’s heat fills with noise,
and sweet breath, and
praise for a solitary name.

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