JENNIFER COMPTON
Sample poem
From the 8th Floor
Rome is glittering tonight.
And the fireworks for no reason
in a suburb I haven't been to.
There was a fire the other day,
over there, in the distance,
the smoke rolled like rain clouds.
Until it stopped.
And then, that evening, as I scanned
the horizon like an Australian
for fire, for smoke,
I saw a fire, the fire of
the setting sun striking the windows
on the hill, and then the cupola.
Ablaze. In turn. Until the sun set.