I saw the ghost of Galileo
On the costa giorgio
He was heading for Martelli
With some friends I didn’t know
The sun beat down in earnest
On the cobbles in the street
As I gazed at marble buildings
That shimmered in the heat
Cathedrals that were monuments
Were sculptured to the sky
And fifteenth century convents
Still soothed the passer by
Ancient glass with glimpses through
Of history in time
And hollowed stone where rested hands
Had dwelt in place as mine
The vaguest smells
And the almost seen
In ghostly form
A nearly dream
A touch, so near
A slipping by
A sound come whisper
Almost a sigh
The feeling creeps
But slow away
Reality repaints the day
I turn then once
Look down the hill
See Galileo
Stopped and still
He smiles, half waves
Then turns at last
To fade back whence
To distant past


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