A Venetian Cycle

  • Tides
  • tow twilight
  • and a timid moon towards
  • rosy-hazed
  • streaks
  • of lanterns:
  • border-lace of a lagoon.
  • Paper boats
  • docked
  • in puddled
  • glimmering alleyways,
  • painted in
  • last
  • evening’s news,
  • love-swayed with gentle nudgings,
  • nestled in
  • their
  • happy hubs,
  • rocking to the rising tune
  • of Aqua
  • Alt’.
  • And Lilting
  • lullabies of drooping casas--
  • old women
  • whose
  • wooden joints
  • crack achy with rheumatism
  • and worn from
  • birth’s
  • burden. Shutters
  • creak--
  • blinking back
  • the salty rains of time which
  • sting wearied
  • panes
  • while inside
  • doily memories adorn
  • the hope chests
  • of
  • history,
  • gathering dust in the dim
  • corridors
  • of their minds.
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