Milano. Poem by Michael Walker

I saw right away that Milan was a major city
with over a million people in a river valley.
It still had a few canals, like the Naviglio Grande,
lined with 'Milan yellow' flats and antiques.
I went shopping in the Victor Emmanuel Galleria
without buying much, but enjoying the multi-storey mall.
I wanted to look into Milan's historic culture
which is disguised by its industrial life.
I started with the dazzling white-marble Duomo,
the third largest church in the world
'with the most spires as well', I thought
on the roof lined by even higher spires.

I took a trolley bus to the Parco Sempione
in the north-west district, where I strolled
for hours on the grass, then through trees
to the Castello Sforzesco, a multi-function castle
like a one-stop shop for museums, paintings and tapestry.
It was not far from there to Santa Maria delle Grazie
a church by the water with the tempera mural 'The Last Supper'
painted by Leonardo da Vinci on a plaster refectory wall.
I saw Christ in the middle of the twelve apostles,
seated at a long dining table, having just said,
'One of you will betray me', causing them, in groups of three,
to gesture and speak, no doubt wondering who it could be.
'Is this better than 'The Night Watch' for group dynamics? '
I wondered at the exit.