Tonight

Strange, how I can see the hilltop town

lights many miles away and the headlights

of distant cars twinkling as they move down

switchback loopy roads—glittering stars

to the steady planetary glow of the towns.

But no, the planets move and so they are

the cars and the towns the fixed-star definers

of the sky: the hills are there and there. Strange,

to tell myself I am here, tonight, in Italy.

(I have to keep telling myself.) For I have seen

hills before and hilltop towns before. True

there are cypresses, tall thin shadows in this

deepening night, but I have seen stone houses

before and olive trees before. I have felt

gusty fall breezes before, seen cloud-shrouded

full moon before. I have drunk Italian wine

before. But on this chill night in this gusty breeze

under this cloud-shrouded moon, with the warm

light through the doorway of this stone house

above this olive grove (with this glass of Italian

wine in my hand), I know I am here, and am glad.

 

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11 thoughts on “Tonight

  1. What a dreamlike journey! It seems to me you close your eyes and takes your readers to “eternal places” somewhere in your memory, like paintings… great poem! And if I remember well the latin adage “in vino veritas”… (and by the way, italian wines are SO delicious… I’ll be in Sicily next week and I’m very excited to taste some sicilian wines there 🙂 Have a nice week dear Jennifer!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, in vino veritas! A trip to Sicily sounds amazing. We returned from sunny Tuscany to rain rain rain. 😦 The Agriturismo that we stayed at had their own wines (Chianti and Montepulciano d’Abruzzo), and they were wonderful. I wish you a good week as well!

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad you liked it. I thought it might be too straight-out-of-my-head rough, but maybe that’s the immediacy. 😉

      Like

  2. I loved this, Jennifer – such a dream like quality – loved these lines –
    ‘But no, the planets move and so they are
    the cars and the towns the fixed-star definers
    of the sky: the hills are there and there. Strange,
    to tell myself I am here, tonight, in Italy.’

    Like

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