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.
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