How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
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Nothing in the world makes you love home so much as being gone far from it for far too long.
Writing this from a hotspot in Assisi, Italia, where I have been wanting to find and share this poem with other wannabe ex-pats for six months now. Just discovered this website this morning, thank you, thank you! My books of Billy Collins' poems are almost the only things I miss from home. And Collins' love and understanding of Italy - its people, its food, its wine, its gioia di vivere - shine through in several other poems as well.
oh how utterly perfecter the time..