m wood pen

The tundra of winter brings my senses flooding longingly to the day, long ago, when I first stepped off the train and into this exotic, middle-east scented, tan, umber, espresso, leather, garlic, fish, pasta-filled Italian place. Haunting me ever since, my pen reaches across the seas, beyond the snow, the chill, the language, and settles me, delightedly, back amidst this wayfarers dream.
Venice, Bridge of Sighs by Melissa Wood