Camogli

For Regan, on her birthday.

Unselfishly, my feet buried deep in bountiful beach debris, I bask in the glistening sun, through tingling sea-salted lips letting slip coffee-scented whispers…

I like it like this, listening to the foaming water hiss between my toes lined with stony sea-grit, wishing the sun would wait just one more hour before sinking behind the tired clock tower.

And as the buildings assume a yellowish tone I begin to feel blue in this mellowing town, for the numbing sound of the tolling bell, a calm, gentle and timely farewell, can’t help but ricochet like a hellish echo, for how in the hell can I possibly go and hold this moment forever only in my memory?