Pasta Ribbons

The water started to boil,
so I snipped the corner of the sachet
containing everything you need
for a taste of Italy at home.

Earlier that year:
what an exciting Summer!
Two weeks in the Gulf of Venice -
I kept on about it at work ( before)
and after
even more.
They called me the mad woman
in the Adriatic.
I loved it:
the food, the fruits and wine
drunk in the sun,
Gelati and champagne sorbet.
Long, hot afternoons
lovey-dovetailed
into warm, sophisticated evenings.
Open-air performances
were common:
local choirs as well as
professional opera
and then, of course,
there was me and Bruno -
my favourite Italian dish
who coaxed me out of my Conchiglie,
filled me up for a while,
but didn't last.
I thought of the waves sparkling
on the warm sun-drenched sea,
as I poured my contents
into the bubbling water.

We're on the verge of Winter now,
quiet night in.
No Bruno,
just me, Cosmo
and the TV guide.
I'm over it now -
I wonder what's on the Taglia-Telly tonight?