Morning on the Piazza San Marco


Not that wide,
not that ornate,
not filled with special people,
and who cares about pigeons!
This plaza, this morning light
— in any light — even if
the smell of coffee weren’t
surfing the sea-breeze,
always comes into focus
when I’m far from it,
like now, in Southern
California, where the tidal
slough at Tijuana, rich in
weeds and the promise of
migrating sea-birds gives
a hard glint, a spacial
bump, something Venetian.

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