Vivid Memory

European Memories

by Elizabeth Hermesch

I remember an elderly man with a pin striped shirt,

who whistled as he rowed along.

Sitting on the smooth, mahogany bench

my four friends, boyfriend, and I watched the coral green water

swish the side of the gondola.

We had a grand, old time

singing love songs and waving to those on land.

I remember walking down a rocky dirt road,

with old city ruins echoing the deaths of the town.

The houses were missing walls, furnishings gone.

The town had once been destroyed by a volcanic eruption.

During the night, the black and red, flaming lava

seeped through the small city.

I walked through the ruins in utter dismay,

and thought of all the families that once had been.

Petrified bodies were out on display.

And that was my venture in Pompei.

I remember walking down a dark and narrow alleyway in Venice,

and hearing a woman's glass-shattering voice.

I've never been fond of opera

But I felt stuck in quicksand,

with nowhere to go.

I was memorized by the enchanting melody

that drifted my way.

The group I was with sluggishly walked around,

listening to this woman's chorus.

I saw a girl with a tear streaming down her face.

We walked away,

with the music lulling in the background.

But most of all, I remember a gloomy, rainy day,

where the sun was hidden by clouds,

and people ran for shelter.

As I approached a tan colored building,

I couldn't help but feel the tightening of my heart.

Decades ago, a young girl had once lived here,

with a heart as big as a giant

and dreams that would soon vanish.

As I ventured inside, I could smell the dust-ridden atmosphere.

It was warm inside, but I felt a chill run up my spine.

Standing before me was the ancient bookcase and hidden door,

that I had come to see....

::My trip to Europe in 2004::