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no return from murano

no return from murano

getting off the boat on the wrong side of venice
gave my new wife and me
time to explore the alley-side of it all
walking through the tiny open squares
littered with kids, cafe tables, and clinking glasses
she was in a sundress and cold
i was trying to look bigger and meaner than I was
mostly, it was old ladies
peering out of their high windows with a frown
but we never spoke
trying to blend in
lost
and there was something in that moment
a vulnerability i was feeling
about the beautiful woman next to me
and her fear
her silence
hints of the losses to come
on our honeymoon
she became unreachable
as i clung to her hand
pulling us along the dank narrow alleys

4/5/23

i am the poet of desire by john oakley mcelhenney

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