She watched in awe,
with memory dripping down her face,
freshwater pearls of days long gone.  
Ghosts of the regatta flowed swiftly along the canal,
Venetian splendor etched in her heart.  

Colors of Murano brilliant in the sunlight
beckon her to follow the sails
and find her regal place.  
The gondola of her grandfather disappears around the bend,
covered in fog coasting past the railway station.  

She bends forward
a sail in the wind
nestled in her sandolo mascareta
desperately reaching for the ghost,
unable to touch as it disappears.