cimitero

poems from the road~~ venezia
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pass through the arch
portal of ancient stone
even the sleep of death
is not quieted
while the heart beats
filling ears from inside
with clamour for life;
trickle of fine mist
competes with tender touch
of notes falling through trees
cascade of loss
tumbles outward
through broken glass,
peeking between spaces of solid wrought
twirls of floral arrangement
that do not die
an angel frozen in hope
with a fine dust of incident
guarding your cramped bones;
they say you rest
and i must catch a boat
returning to the mainland.