Tuscany

the symphony horns punctuate the strings

as they overturn their phrases with grace

I absorb the sweet lines of energy

and watch a slideshow of Tuscan beauty

orange roofs, rolling hills with grapevines

men and women dancing through the fields

tending the vines and harvesting the grapes

in baskets that grow heavy, but burden not

it all seems a lovely enchantment

a ritual of the season as the grapes

are transformed into juice and then into wine

such a happy tradition, this grand harvest

afterward comes the party:  dancing, singing,

the strolling mandolin player who flirts

with all the young girls flashing their skirts

in broad swirls and fluttering their eyelashes

and still the symphony plays out a flute solo,

the strings echo the allegro tempo

and I withdraw from Tuscany for now