Mosaico Fiorentino
Fragments like colored glass
Segmented memories
Names of streets
Distant ricordi
In a flash
my thoughts translate into Florentine tongue
Connecting chards of glass
like dots on a page
my memory comes into focus
An old mosaic completes itself
Myself
As I stay with the names
new memories insist on arriving
Your dome peeks through your ancient strade
Like the chords of Bob Dylan played as a fourteen year old
comes from distant vie in my brain
Dots connect
and Don’t Think Twice surfaces