St. Mark’s

When the last of the violins

Slowed and then silenced,

Their songs still lingered in the summer air.

The moon lit the square

And the sky kissed the sea

And then you were gone, lost to Venice.

I think I believed that

The songs would play forever,

That the sun would never rise and that you would never leave.

And I think I believed that

Love was right there, in St. Mark’s Square,

Dancing between lips of wine and eyes of green.

But the violins stopped

And the dusk became dawn,

And you disappeared, in to Venice.