Hello again, old friend

The last time I saw blood 

I was in the basement of a

Fluorescent lit

Roman cafe, in limbo,

Sipping red wine

Before our dinner reservation

I’d thought, that maybe,

The seed of a baby

Had been planted

Beside a Venetian canal 

Four weeks before

I rejoiced, I grieved

For these hands were already loaded

With the weight of a tiny,

Burgeoning man

I drank the wine,

Guiltless

A silent celebration

And plied a travel weary

Sixteen month old with carbonara

A toast

To empty wombs 

And final nights

We succumbed early

Traipsing the cobblestones

To a lofty paneled bedroom

Where our heads found European pillows

For the last time