Roman Afternoon

In the city of women

I too worship.

Look:

An Etruscan perfume bottle,

Recovered from a tomb,

Perhaps still a hint

Of the scent,

Commending souls

To the gods.

In the Museo delle Anime dei Defunti,

I mark the interventions of the dead,

Prayer books and scraps of cloth

With fingerprints burned into them,

Made to prove their souls’ existence

And drive us sinners to Mass.

Pray for us,pray for our souls

To be released from Purgatory!

And I step outside onto the riverside

To the bars and cafes

And the beautiful women.