I watch the square in silver gray
Before the coffee carts start the day
My polished tube is heavy and cold
A story of the empire told
I see the cobblestones in a row
Where the slow Roman rivers flow
Glass and metal in a steady beam
Waking up from a heavy dream
Laurus nobilis grows in the crack
I track the sunlight coming back
The soil is damp on the ancient wall
I wait for the morning light to fall
The cafe chairs are stacked in a pile
I watch the empty pavement for a while
The air is crisp like a winter leaf
A momentary frozen kind of relief
I see the cobblestones in a row
Where the slow Roman rivers flow
Glass and metal in a steady beam
Waking up from a heavy dream
Adjust the focus and tighten the screw
The morning sky is a pale shade of blue
I hold the image of a ghost in my sight
Holding on to the last of the night
The first few footsteps hit the street
I feel the vibration of heavy feet
My brass skin glows in the rising heat
The circle of the plaza is complete
I see the cobblestones in a row
Where the slow Roman rivers flow
Glass and metal in a steady beam
Waking up from a heavy dream
Brass lens, cold stone.
I am never alone.
