Lê Trần nguyên lam

They stand tall, unique and rare of them all,
Like each stone in a sun-dried stone wall,
Golden stalks in Tuscan blush.
Bathed in silence, never in rush.

The alley hums in summer’s glare
Windows open to bright, breathing air
You share a bit of morning with neighbors
Laundry secrets, and espresso rituals.

Above it all, a vault of still, endless Blue,
That no cloud dares disturb the flawless hue.
Just a quiet walk through Florence stones,
Through an alley bathed in sunlight, gold,
Where time stands still, and stories weave.

– Lam