I was one of those sad and sorry people today,
lugging stuff again, where did it come from,
I don't know, but there I was, in Santa Maria Novella
stazione in Firenze, struggling with my many and
variously sized and weighted bags:
on and off the train,
even some scouring powder in the crazy mix. . . 

But now, adesso, I am in Venice.
This is the view from my living room,
across the tiny canal, to my neighbor.
I never ever (was here last trip too),
have seen any people in this place,
but the windows are opened, 
and the lights come on each night, 
and there is some sort of magic.