Wednesday, August 17, 2005


originally uploaded by clara.infinite.light.
The gondolier
pulling his boat
narrow prow
knifing the water
a song ripples
like the tiny wake
the liquid streets
empty into the plaza of
San Marco
Pigeons sweep
Past the ancient vessel
its stern
turned up in silhouette
graceful past the Guggenheim
as it has been done for ages
city of merchants
crossroads of the intellect
treasure laid out
for the eye to see
so many secrets submerged
yet the gondolier
pulling his boat
through the muted light
knows were the treasure
is hidden

Poem Copyright
© 2005 Frederick D. Perry, All Rights Reserved

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