Árni Ibsen wrote:
>
> About four or five years ago I had the pleasure of visiting Genoa for a
> hectic and sleepless weekend in early February, while my own house up here
> was more or less submerged in snow and caught in the harsh arms of a
> blizzard. It was a very inspiring mid-winter visit (as any Italian visit),
> in spite of its brevity, which prompted several very short and totally
> impossible poems. Here's one, written on realizing while on the chilly beach
> just south of Genoa that Ezra's home was just beyond the hills. (at the time
> I was holding my mobile phone close to the small breaking waves for my wife
> to hear at home)...
>
> RAPALLO BEYOND THE HILL
>
> stone's throw
> nearly
> from yr past
> present my yoke
>
> Best
>
> Árni
>
Lovely poem. But isn't it cheating to count the syllables of the title?
- FP
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