On a vaporetto back from the island,
turbulent wake of Murano jade
splashes about us out in the stern.
The sun is chasing platinum facets
from the lagoon to molten confiserie.
We roll with the swell, then into dock.
Children awestruck, the engine reversing
churns the canal like a waterspout
and our vessel wallows by the wharf.
Where we go there’s not much shade
but water trickles always from a tap
to the pavement, for us and for the birds.
Photo: Venice lagoon in bright sunlight with view of a small cargo boat, its boatman in the stern. In the background is the church of San Giorgio Maggiore. I took this photo while on the journey referred to in the above poem, returning from Murano to Venice. (2001)
Stephen Moran's Museum of Illusions 