First Feline of Florence

Wise and whiskered
In his element
Oblivious to mantras, miscues and meltdowns
Far from the hustings
Light orange gelato stripes listen
For the sounds of cork
Rubbing against glass
Footsteps on slow-travelled stone
And whispers in the piazza
So blissfully unaware
Of John Baird's hair


4th Dwarf said...

so much to think about in so few lines.

you're a deep one, I.O.

Duncan said...

dkw osdapfen al purrrrrrr

coyote said...

Hey! Anybody else have a sudden unaccountable craving for Italian take-out...?

Awww said...