Fontegaia ripples along...


Another year leans down toward autumn.
Steadfast whine of Palio gone quiet now.
Stubborn yarn of hilltop-town (plow
upending vineyard-wake) only the hum

of absent hornets over a fallow stream.
Race of a twining J, milled (purling,
providential) through my veins. Preening
yearlings, tender feet in a mural scheme -

young scouts in alder labyrinth -
gnarled sign of constancy in suffering
(St. Kate, cartwheeling).
Siena gathers toward a last July. Absinthe

wormwood, rain; pale horses
neighing nigh, near splintered
almond tree (blooming anachronism).
My muttering (tracing their courses).

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