Watch the brilliant teal serpent Threading a sigh Meandering through gardens of towns folk
Toppled devotion – organic generations Of perfect harmony. Cultivated rows Entwined in silken soil
Listen – jazz softly rises up from courtyards; tears Fall on archaic structures
Of gold – and God; where thousand-year-old fingers
Carved overwhelmingly – stealing their faith.
Crimson petals twist and pour
Out of discernible window boxes Onto slate green streets below. Above
The Alps tower with snow-caps Peering down on bullion rooftops. Jeweled windows of painted faces
Looking out from the ubiquitous Clock Tower See. Even the Elderly steal a kiss – or a moment On a park bench and watch
As a teal river Slithers quietly past.