"Mirrored Reflections: To the the City that Smells of Orange Blossoms," A Poem

Firenze,

The minute I arrived,

I was greeted with the sweet smell of orange blossoms.

Every flavor of gelato:

Stracciatella, Dulce de Leche, Caffé, Cioccolato

was present.

Home of the Renaissance;

patron of the arts

Ponte Vecchio,

the waters carry the secrets and history of past events,

carries the reflections of the past, present, and future.

The only bridge that was left standing after the violence,

still remains to this day.

Home of Michelangelo

and his David glistening in marble.

Oh Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore,

I climbed the narrow, spiral steps —

all 463 stairs to the top

where I was greeted with the view of the city.

I still see Firenze in my dreams.

The orange blossoms bring me back to warm summer beams.