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OUR APPOINTMENT
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In my own journey of the Magi,
footsteps fell at the Calle de Fabbri.
It was midnight and the shop I visited
was open one
of those that sells Adriactico.
Our appointment was at the hour that the lord bid:
Glory be to the father, son and holy ghost,
I crossed not one but twelve bridges
to see you angry at me
standing as the Republic did.
On the technical question,
there was no doubt you were
a fine piece of architecture
preserved, unknown even to yourself.
Dressed for cocktails at seven
we met earlier at San Marco
it was warm for the time of year,
your husband was absent,
I had a copy of the Blue Guide with me.
As there were no motor cars,
I impressed you with churches
which look like entrances to hell
at times when the conversation was lively.
Retiring to bed, I remember Byron's dictum:
'I loved your sister, too. Did you know that?'
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