Highly unlikely that
Peggy Guggenheim and me
ever would have travelled
similar social circles
even if not for the inconvenient fact that
she was already cutting her bohemian swath
before my grandparents ever met
but behind
this Venetian courtyard's tall walls
under a grape arbour
where I can just hear
the vaporetti's idling passage
along the Grand Canal
I am thankful for the green shade
the smooth marble bench that
comfortably cools my back
can admire wholly her taste
in choosing this house
to live in
all of those paintings
to hang on its walls
this fine quiet corner
in which to be buried
and feel that on the evidence
I would have liked to.
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