Ponte Vecchio

The ladies on diets
pocket the biscotti:
click shut their bags
over crisp white napkins.

Behind the ravaged
Sabine Women twisting,
she writes to him in blue:
sniffs, apologizes (again).

Out, behind her shoulder
the carnival mask moons
gold and vermilion
and her friend must have it.

I shoulder their tray:
try not to grudge the inadequate tip,
try to smile at the flowered
tourists passing by.

(c) Catherine Weaver 1995 All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s