The clouds obscure the island and the church <br />And the cold sea is streaked with grey like mud; <br />Dark cypresses (but not a single birch <br />As in Berlin) edge the Venetian flood. <br />Follow the Lido with your wind-swept eye <br />-Long needle of the land that threads the sea - <br />Where white gulls in the stormy distance, fly <br />Past lonely gardens and the last green tree. <br /> <br />You wouldn't think the citizens would dare <br />To venture out upon the streets below <br />With all this frosty dampness in the air; <br />But when night falls you'll see the scarlet glow <br />Of braziers roasting chestnuts near the Square, <br />And sweet potatoes in Sant'Angelo.<br /><br />Peter Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/venice-in-winter-for-gitta-in-berlin/
