A sonnet to Florence: Your pink & green marbled churches we admired, Your dense crowds of tourists made us tired. The bright sunshine beat down upon the square, Hey, what’s that guy drawing over there? The air filled with scents of pizza and perfume, (and a few things that stank) The lack of ‘water closets’ made us wary about how many espressos we drank. (Oh my!) House wine & mineral water cascaded over our lips, Each one different - nice to sit & sip! Ah, but we shall miss the shopping on street after street, Staring in wonder at statue David’s feet. Ask ourselves “why so many couples necking in the square?” And will that Vespa be prepared…. (to stop for us to cross this street?) In all reality, we’ll be reminiscing about our great
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