← v1n1, Spring 2002
Poetry · 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?