Florence
written by: Gaynor Kane
@gaynorkane
I
We stood on the Ponte Amerigo Vespucci,
forty degrees baking skin and surfaces, watching
the topless Italian, ankle deep on the weir.
Casting out a line; cool feet,
cool dude in denim shorts, waiting,
as the Arno gushed past.
II
She announced
that she could not cope
with another Renaissance baby
but giggled at the three teenage tourists,
friends, sisters, perhaps both,
under spotlights of sunrays
mimicking the poses of Hellenistic statues,
for a photograph. Niobe and her children
hunted by Apollo and Artemis.
III
We leave the Uffizi Gallery, to visit
the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore–
she christens it the Lego church.
Descend cool stone stairs to the crypt.
See shadows of an ancient Roman city–
Florentia; in remains of dwellings and waste pits.
In vaulted blackness,
her glow-in-the-dark galaxy backpack
projects daydream constellations.
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