Venetian Blinds


af Jonathan Matthew Schwartz


They were always a problem:

Which string to pull,

To open or close,

Daylight or night.

They rattled

And flapped,

Dust on each blade,

Except where you touched.

You cannot open the windows

Where Venetian blinds are hung.




                                                                                                                  Thanksgiving 2011.

Indeed there will be time
Indeed there will be time
This poem has a hidden lesson. I and my wife spent three days in  
Venice, November 2011. Of course I had the ambition of writing at  
least one poem about the canals, the buildings, the boats, the people,  
paintings, etc.

Nothing came out either in the hotel room, cafes, trains on the way  
home, or even back home. But I remembered my father's study at home in  
Detroit 1930's, (1940's) which had Venetian Blinds, since there were  
many windows. So I wrote "Venetian Blinds", not about the city but  
about the chlldhood home. Also a kind of blindness.
Best, Jonathan

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