Coraggio

This morning I saw a beautiful horse standing unattended in San Pietro. She had black eyes and a lovely sad face and I really wanted to touch her. I didn't. I was afraid her unforeseen owner would slap my hand away.

Later, my petite professoressa spoke of Goethe and his travels to Italy. Goethe saw this adventure as an occasion to 'reinvent himself'. Incognito, he joined the artistic community, painted the city with an artist at his side, and fell desperately in love with a prostitute before returning to the Court of Weinmar.

Why do I mention this? If Goethe had been by my side, with faux mustache and gold pocket watch, he would have urged me to the touch the horse's face. "Go on" he would have said, "you might learn something."

When I see her again, I will reach for her. I think it's the right thing to do.