Here, from these Duomo steps in the center of Milan, a piazza stretches in front of me. It’s a wide open space fringed on its edges by loggias, boutiques and vendors. With their heads down a few people rush by (life in the city, full of rushing) on their way to appointments and meetings and presentations and summits.
Spring has shown it’s face in odd snatches—between recent stints of rain. And in the lull today I sit here—watching, writing. Waiting. For you. Always you.