December
and it was snowing
I was dozing on the couch
eyes closed, the countryside was quiet,
asleep
In the background I could hear the voice of the journalist
on TV introducing the games of the day
outside in the yard the dogs were barking to the countryside
and then
the squeaking of my father's Sunday leather shoes.
Dad would put the bottle of grappa back in its place in the
living room cupboard
with that Sunday coffee fix as a prize, he would settle...