The Arno

Sunlight splashes on the horizon

Of buzzing mosquitoes and flapping bats

Encased in the serenity of a

Drowsy city sliced evenly in two

By liquid scissors swelling and contracting

With thundery showers of wetness,

Murky waters bubbling hard and fresh.

On one side, the fresh crispness of central

Park, the human vacuum of the Tuesday

Morning market, and the smooth soft curve of

The dome, on the other, the edge of

The city, Belvedere lurking deep

In the hills and Michelangelo’s

Piazzale, from which like God, you can

See the world.