i miss the commutes 

the aged buildings, 

the daily dance between pedestrians and vehicles because the cobblestone 

did not demarcate the street 

from the sidewalk.

as i passed numerous shops with uncommon operating hours 

i made mental notes of places that caught my eye. 

reams of mental notes which went unexplored.

i miss the piazza 

the heart of the social sphere

the smell of cigarettes and coffee beans waft 

from the caffe into the square

there are an abundance of

clacking sounds made by leather soles 

bouncing off the cobblestone 

as the residents come to congregate 

around the fountain, 

on the steps, 

in front of the shops at all hours of the day

the space felt lived in;

it felt laughed in

it exuded life

at dusk, the rolling hills almost look divine

the landscape must have been touched by God 

as the sunset illuminates features 

foreign in my city life.

it was like i slipped into a dream

the sky sported a variety of shades and hues

the shingles on the roof held on to the warmth

of the sun as it sank below the horizon

federico’s castle confidently stood in the

background 

as it had done for ages

the setting was picturesque

i miss the cold breezes and the hot meals

the constant cardio and the steep hills 

the small portions and the mild palatte

the distance which had me shedding bad habits

i miss the people i met along the way

the fuzzy nights at the Sugar Cafe

the vi-ta-min advocates by vocation, 

the numerous and captivating conversations 

i miss urbino