They wanted to take a breather.
Swallow the kilometers
that wear out the shoes
and push back the malaise
by their feet.
With other pilgrims, they proudly made
the same farewell vows on the road.
To travel in peace
like others breakfast in silence.
Abandoning Verona and its sort, they
returned this morning
To smell the stale air of my neurons
That they had never left.