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Venice
by Robert Riche

The evening sky over
Santa Maria delle Salute
blends colors that inspired
Giovanni Bellini.
From my table on Giudecca
across the great bay
the whole of the Serenissima
fits in my palm,
San Marco, the Campanile,
the palazzo Ducale
where the Doges
and their councils
decided who would cross
the Bridge of Sighs. I close
my fist and squeeze out
the view as rising waters
cover toes of the grande dame,
life support failing
this fading beauty,
yet no less lovely,
the glorious
trading days
silks from the Orient
forever in memory, her destiny
to slip below the rotting pilings,
her gray locks
to drift through the alleys
and into courtyards
and finally, twine
around the sodden heart of
the Renaissance.


 

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