Transcendnt Nights Italia: The Arno

Journeyed to far away places once.
A man was singing on the Ponte Vecchio.
Serenading passers by with sensual acoustics.
The glimmering, golden shops of rich desire,
Closed at rest.
Darkness slowly cloaked the city.
Sitting on the cold cement ledge,
In love with the air,
Giotto’s blue filled the mysteries of the sky.
My sweet, sweet Italia, no one paints the heavens blue like you.
The Arno,
It was sparkling reflections from above,
This moment.
You could not capture it through a lens.
Nor do it justice with words.
All you could do was sit back,
In-hale and savor the sensations.