Villa Borghese

a young girl walks in the park

there are statues

some are fallen

underfoot pine needles crisp

fragrant

children with gelati

the sun declines on an Empire and shadows stretch on the lake

the little waves are torsional in the light

there is a Temple for healing

she places her hands on the fragile balcony warm

she looks down

the Piazza del Popolo like a giant watch face ticks

her life has begun