I remember Venice in winter
A blanket of fog to grant the canals
A silent night’s rest
Still waters under bridges
Where generations of gondoliers
Squeeze into the cool space
Alongside travertine plazas
Without the swarms of photographs
And tourists at home in their beds
A Half continent and a plane ticket away
Dreaming of springs where lovers come
Turning antique docks into modern photo ops
And kiss away the monotony with pixels of an ideal escape
