Learning to ride, falling down, getting back on
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Joanne, have we ever been so free as then?
We’d change destinations
on a whim, Rome one day,
hitchhiking to Brindisi the next.
The cheap berth on a ferry to Greece
meant sleeping on the deck next to Italian boys.
Remember their garlicky breath?
I want to call you up right now,
buy one-way tickets to Athens
where we’ll board the boat
to the island of Skyros.
We can take turns going to the bakery
for warm bread at dawn
wearing cotton shifts
we sleep in like virgins.
The sun runs its hands up the hillside
to each white house.