writing in Florence

savoy to my left, archway to my right
piazza before me, people linger along
birds spy crumbs as they drop
they snap them up in their beaks
before they touch the ground
all the crumbs this pastry gives away
that miss my lips
i would be scolded for making such a mess -
O' to have had such birds around
when i was a kid come to think of it
my kids might wish the same!

how can one feel
so much
at home
yet so
uncomfortable
so
out-of-place
at the same time