Doorway, Montefiorialle

Ancient Montefioralle is a tiny village in northern Tuscany, built atop a steep hill,
      its unique tower houses facing out toward the countryside below.
The backs of these buildings open onto the town’s only road,
      quite narrow in width and perfectly oval in shape.
You can walk the entire loop in four minutes.
As my wife, Bernie, and I sauntered there one bright September day,
      we came upon this entrance to someone’s home.
I wondered what its residents were like,
      they who planted those flowers as they did,
            they who left those dishes where they sat,
                  they who left the door open so we could see the stairs leading up.
I wondered how many families had claimed that as their front door,
      with its stonework put in place seven or eight hundred years before.
I wondered how living in a place like Montefioralle would influence
      how you spent your days,
            how you viewed the world,
                  how you planned your future.
Looking at this photograph that locks that scene in time,
      I wonder still.