My wife and I recently spent a couple of magical weeks in Tuscany. Our favorite activity was exploring the country roads in our rental car.

You come to Poggibonsi with me,
and in the car we’ll forge our plan:
Roll down the windows and let in
the sudden blasts of happenchance.

Together we’ll climb the towers
of San Gimignano in the dark,
or fill up on fresh zucchini
before a slumbrous lay in the park.

Perhaps we’ll take a path unmarked
and spit out gravel on the way,
or on a whim stop and stare, at
a meadow rich with bales of hay.

Or you might take the wheel from me,
and around the bends smartly whip
on past the columns of Cypress trees
that guard the hillsides with their tips.

You come to Poggibonsi with me,
and along the way I’ll clench your hand,
for there amid the sunburned slopes,
      my flame for you the road shall fan.