I recognize Ravello in the dreamWhere Gore Vidal and Howard walk towardsMe, smiling, with martinis in their hands.We’re now inside La Rondinaia (orThe Swallow’s Nest). I sense unevennessBeneath my feet, look down, and see the floorComprised of pale blue jigsaw pieces, allIn disarray. I must tread carefully,In order not to break these scattered tilesThat seem like fragments from a fallen sky. ... (read more)