← v1n1, Spring 2002Poetry · Volume 1, Number 1
Nero
The glint along the water of the canals
Of the few stars still visible as the clouds
Gather blackening the lagoon where the rows
Of gondolas rock side by side in the wash
Of the tide their necks crooked high
Above the narrow dock alongside Julietta's
Bridges as the cats take their turn navigating the city
As the French boy in Julietta's bedroom turns from the window
Where he's been standing the whole while waiting to ask
What do you call the black of those gondolas?
