a political rally leads us to the Pantheon
where willing cafes
smother voices
with the chatter of silverware

the crowds have no ebb

their tanned skin pools round the columns
where echoes from buskers
hang like webs

the sun bleaches the Fountain
and its repairs are frozen
by my camera

we line up
and you are beautiful
just beginning to sweat at the temples.


12 thoughts on “temples

    • Thanks, Graham – Early start indeed for a Sat! Feels like it’s been months since I last posted a poem, this one feels like a good one to come back with – as I said to Dhyan, I’d been thinking about it since last September probably, I remember I could hear the sound of chant that night in the hotel.

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