Milano in Haiku

Corso Vittorio, Westward

Arrival by air.

Green Malpensa Airport,

walk for what seems miles.


Malpensa Express:

No stops, but don’t expect speed,

past graffitied walls.


Cardorna subway:

train zips between piazze—

cheap and fast and clean.


Spires of pink marble,

La Madonnina watching,

impressive Duomo.


Climb to rooftop height,

get city panorama,

alpine glimpse when clear.


Kids hang out of steps,

chatting or grooving to tunes,

not missing action.


Stone lion in the square:

everyone wants a photo,

one dude climbs and rides.


Hotel Nuovo,

Piazza Beccaria,

tricky to locate.


The philosopher

Cesare Beccaria

surveys namesake square.


Flags of many hues

greet shoppers on the corso—

stores, bars, gelato.


Fashion-conscious men

with scarves, trousers rolled just so;

women in high heels.


Saffron risotto,

local meat perfectly cooked,



Galleria shows

work in glass and iron and stone,

alta moda shops.


Fancy windows on


displays leather goods.


Sempione Park

offers refuge from traffic,

break from city life.


Church like San Marco—

a different kind of refuge,

one these days less used.


Find buon espresso—

Bars Camparino, Brera,

and Madonnina.


Museums of art:

annunciations, crosses,

suppers, pietas.


Museum shows art,

students outside give promise

it will continue.


Mercatini crowd

entertained by musicians—

noon outdoor concert.


Local lunchers join

hungry sightseeing tourists

on Via Dante.


At Sforza Castle,

it’s school kids on class field trips,

learning history.


It all ends too soon,

the city now part of me,

but can’t take it home.


Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper






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