|  | Salt A warm gulf breeze
 floated in over the pavestones
 behind the Cà d'Zan,
 stirring quiet palm fronds and
 waking birds languid
 in cascading banyan vines.
 We stood hand in hand
 in the shadow of luxury,
 you and I, nothing to our names
 but a half-pack of cigarettes,
 beer money for the beach,
 passes to the museum,
 and a dream of old age:
 wrinkled eyes and scraggled fingers
 still locked together,
 somewhere a child or two
 not calling on our birthdays,
 and a small place by the water.
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