he like a tourist
Looked at the rivery city
As if Venice
Had become the city known
So known yet
She had sown
Rivery flow
Like Venetian music red...
he like the Tourist
Getting kissed
By the inglorious matte finish
Of the day,
Recalled as if
HE fiddled with a dream
Of him...
A white boat
Tied by a string
Of hope
To a jetty...
And a dream
There waiting for him...
A venetian romance
Of music and wine...
Of windows opening to a city watery flowing fine...
Of a bunch of poems uncollected sprayed like Love of Her,
Divine...
And Venice like soothe
Became the morn, on shine, watery...
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