Imagine you at the beginning of the
longest walk of your life, no thought given to
shoes, socks, toothpaste, hats, and the other
rip-rap, nothing of watches or water, sleeping
on the ground or in hay,
setting out for the east, for Padua,
for Venice, no knowledge of the churches you’d pass or the paintings
or frescoes inside, say Giotto, no friends anywhere