A view from my mind
Tinkled – the Sundays’ bells
Brought by the wings
Flown beyond the dodge palace
With Corelli and
Landed on Lido beach
To graph a new sound.
Cars violated the sight
And lit purple butterflies
Over the ocean candles
A woman dressed white
Kissed the sky
And her eye lifted
The sound to the bells’ ear
I returned to Venezia left the sound behind
And stopped at the Guardini de la biennale.
Gregorian hymn from San Marco
Dropped
Into the stream water in flame
Memory.
Purple rains unease
The air
Sundays
Died
In peace.
poem by Roland Bastien
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