Autumn Evening
On a pavement
In Ivrea,
Overlooked by leaden skies,
And a crowd of customers,
A chestnut seller
Stokes the fire.
Acrid smoke
Swirls
Around the waiting crowd.
As he pours the chestnuts,
They snap
And crackle in the heat.
A single euro
buys
A bag of blackened skins
And floury warmth,
Reddening hands
And warming bodies.