Here
A sky heavy with grey clouds
Hangs over Italy
Where you pledge your lifetime’s love to me
On these darkened rocky hills
Where we can walk for hours
Among the swathes of incandescent flowers
The bells ring at the carnival
Where all these people mill
Nothing stops their cries and nothing will
In your long white dress
With wild flowers in your hair
Even angels turn their heads and stare
The chains we make with words
That echo to infinity
Bind us to our own mortality
St John will grant us anything
Promise all we ask
But nothing can hold back the years that pass
The twisted smiles on our fathers’ faces
As they storm outside
Seeking solace in the silent night
With each friendship that we make
Our agony’s assuaged
Crushed by fists that tighten in blind rage
And in these crumbling suburbs
Where old priests are bent in prayer
They become the lowest workmen there
Hands old and courageous
Toil tirelessly for days
To create proof of God’s living grace
Flowers crowd the distance
Between us and the enemy
Trying to prevent the butchery