i hear church bells

im in a 500-600 year old home.
next to a stone, catholic church
next to the entrance to castle hill
the canon goes off every day at 12noon
the hours are orange, the shutters are blue

the stone paths are still.
its a curvry road up to our apartment.

my beach clothes from yesterday are hanging on the line outside our shutters, above the grape vines which drapes over our terrace and the stone zigzag path.

the street lamps make the town glow with a sepia hue in the night time.

distant hills, the sea and the sky- hard to distinguish between the two, and glowing lights, light yellow orbs and strings of pearls, are in the distant from our living room table.

the air is crisp. fresh.
the radio is soooo much better here than back at home.

off to the ville-franche