Gnocchi at Sunset

A Poem for Febe

I close my eyes and try
to make the traffic sound
like waves. The games of kids
pretending is the same,

Without the element
of magic that comes from
friends
and salty air

And gnocchi-making to
a rainbow sunset.
The gift of respite, on
the job, was burned into

My senses with the smell
of bubbles in the bath,
the ocean rolling in,
the blue and orange and gold.

Inspiring me to try
a poem with my hands,
to keep on making art
with my whole life.

Your laugh is balm to my
encumbered spirit and
so glad am I that you
are my friend, mi amiga.