A Rainy Day in Venice

A rainy day in Venice.
No light filters in the cathedral windows.
Only a dull grayness.

It is flood season and the women wear waders
instead of fashionable pumps.
They become practical instead of glamorous.

Cafes have water ankle level
but still the regulars are there, reading their paper
by the grey light, sipping cappuccino, nonchalant,

as if this, the messy darkness, is ordinary.
And perhaps it is. Darkness in paradise, a challenge
to find the bits of beauty that bring light

even in the rain. You join them,
hoping your boots are high enough
to hold out the water, rediscovering paradise,

the part the post cards leave out,
suddenly, on the second cup, seeing it,
a world without tourists,

only the ones who want to be here
are here. And you smile,
grateful to be one of those who stay.

About this poem.

A poem about Venice in winter. A love poem about love in the hard times. Poetry is never about one thing.

The picture was taken in Venice on a gray rainy day when no light came through the Catherdral windows.

Tom