Snapshots of Italy – June, 2019

Azzurro  is the color of a peaceful sky, more intense than celeste, and lighter than blu (or turchino)

From plane to boat to taxi to train,
my suitcase, blue as the hands
of the man in the song, is an anchor
against the wind that never comes
to take me above the burning sun.

This is the cantare of my bright blue
suitcase rolling over cobblestones
and up the steps of high, arched
Venice bridges. Azure above red rooftops
deepens to cloudless cobalt sky.

That is my cerulean baggage
dragged five flights in Florence
for a tiptoed glimpse of the Duomo,
then up to the rooftop washer
under a square of clothesline-
crossed ultramarine sky.

Here I am, sitting on my luggage
near a Fiumicino beachfront
waiting for a caffe latte and a key.
Later, my indigo companion
waits upstairs like a melancholy dog
while I dip my toes at last
in the tepid sapphire sea.


Inspired by dVerse.

Below are photos of my suitcase (and husband) arriving in Venice.


  1. Your poem took me back, Denise, to my own time in Italy over the years, and to my daughter’s wedding in Tuscany. Our first visit ever was to Venice for my husband’s fiftieth and your opening stanzas are so familiar. We’ve been back many times, but the impression never seems to change – except for a trip in February for the carnival, when it was foggy. The image of the ‘square of clothesline-crossed ultramarine sky’ is so vivid, and I love how your cerulean suitcase is a vehicle for the poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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