Now if you’ve travelled round Lagoon –
I speak of Venice and its isles –
you’ll know Murano by its glass,
less so Burano, painted streets.
Between their pastel shaded homes
hangs washing, dripping in breeze heat.
Like paving, crazy, walking there
on laundry morning – woe betide!
Loud comes command, ‘Empty the streets’,
with comment, mine ‘I’ll stay inside’,
for signs are as a telegraph,
both sway and swing awning above.
You maybe prefer gondolas,
the architecture, carnival;
all though is dwarfed by mighty cruise,
whose storeys tower every deck.
Economy of scale earns more.
but moored is now Leviathan;
the crews accompany new wealth,
while old ways are hung out to dry.
For representing island life
is not the picture postcard treat,
but what makes for their common life –
the wash, dry, clean, but photographed.
A hidden town far from St Mark’s,
proud lions, Rialto and the Doge,
I note that lines on Pixabay
are frequently the washing type.
For people’s living, everyday
amongst the picturesque, the way
to learn reality, I say,
find magic and community.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales, UK, from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces curated and published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, including Poetry Potion. He has, like so many, been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. His blog is at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com
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Lovely Italian poem honed
To bring a glimpse of coloured homes
Of simple life on the streets of Burano
Bathed in the heat and suno
Far away in Warrington running wet
Its raining cats and dogs my pet