The sky this evening over Charleston,
just dramatic enough to say, it’s good—
strolling across the parking lot while the sun
lights up the bottom of clouds as you
are on your way to Taco Bell. Those clouds
remind you of a tromp-l’oeil crepuscule
in Las Vegas that makes you believe
you are sitting by a canal in Venice
in the early evening. The gondoliers
in their striped shirts drift along the shore.
O Sole Mio. The sky nostalgic, wisps of cirrus
seem to drift across it. You ask to sit outside,
because this is one of those moments, even if this
is not Venice, even if you’re really indoors.