A street parallel - 1

I first saw her last year, in short stops in between those long wandering piligrimage, in the cold and desolated streets, when the night changed the colors, where you could meet the night dwellers, in a long desolated street, there she was in the bus stop, by a street lamp.

A street parallel to the main road, great beautifull villas around, A good neighborhood, only in daytime maybe.

She was unique, her amazing beauty and splendor which
distinguished her from others, her style of clothing,
her majesty when she walked and her perfect and formal italian.

You could always converse to her, and enjoy her company and forget the time and space you were in.

A year or more has passed, from those cold nights of winter.

A friend of her told me that she is back home, that
she is happy and will never come back.

She will never come back to this filth, to this cruel
town, again.

May the warmth of her mother land giveth her
happiness and may the Good Lord, protect her , as He
has always done.