Fortuna dances
atop the Dogana
plump and sassy
with her sea-spray plume;
she holds her
wing-like sail
to the wind
which spins her
round
from east to west
from north to south
from up to down
and all points
in between,
and when the air
is still
she stands poised
and expectant
waiting for everything
to change
once again.
21.VIII.09
Venezia
I subscribe to our blog, because this poem and the love of your own Venice is something I do like reading. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteOh! YOUR blog! of course...sorry, just because I tend to have Venice on my mind!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Yvette. Venice is a strange and sometimes difficult place to live (think 100,000 tourists in a tiny city on a hot summer day) but it is also without equal for the beauty of its sea and stones, its art and its ecstatic light.
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