Poem -Sobre o sol de Toscana

Place

‘The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove
than the hunger for bread.’
-- Mother Theresa

I find the nature of love
bewitching
as any lover
must yet others find pleasure
in each other in a place
I do not know.

I see them:
the young couple carving
their names into the oak tree’s
hidden side, her hand in his;
the elderly couple with the matching
white sailor hats
perfectly still on the park bench,
his head in her lap.

I feel them always
in a constant persecution
that brings me to this
natural phenomenon, this hiding place.
And how do they keep silent
with each other? Are they silent
within? Do they suffer no
turmoil? They leave me
to read, write and talk incessantly
about what I cannot…no,
have not experienced,
always questioning the place love
comes from, goes to
and the silence.