THE WHISTLER’S GRANDMOTHER

In Stephansplatz, geographical centre

of Vienna, where the horse drawn fiakers

wait in line for hire (the excrement

collected in bags attached to the carriage

to mollify the tourists), next to

the Stephansdom (its spire the tallest

in the world) where Holy Roman Emperors

were christened, baptized, confirmed, crowned, married 

and dispatched, on paving where Haydn,

Mozart, Beethoven walked, the photographer

and her assistant, grandma and granddaughter

are practising their whistling.

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1 Comment
  • Ashen Venema
    January 1, 2022

    David, I always sense the love in your poems, of people, of places. And the way you treasure instances of recognition, and make connections.