Right now, 4:30 pm on Saturday afternoon, the sun on the surface of the water of Rio San Barnaba, the canal outside of our apartment, is reflecting in such a way that the water’s ripples cause shadowed striations across the brick, stucco, and iron Gothic iron windows of the palazzo across the street. A woman who lives there, on the second floor, just closed the doors to her balcony and drew the draperies shut. Maybe it’s too bright a time of day for her but my room with a view is onto tranquil, utter beauty. John’s out and about to find a post box and take more photographs. I just grabbed his tiny Nikon and tried to capture what I’m seeing. Then the bells began. I feel happily here, lost in, lost to this moment. Ah, Venezia.
- Published Online after Being in Print: “And I will tell you a story” - September 5, 2024
- Oregon Poetry Association Honorable Mention for a Prose Poem - September 2, 2024
- Playing with Form: The Abecedarian - August 28, 2024