If I Were Francesco Guardi

I
I think you are a white clematis
Climbing the wall of a seaside garden,
When there is a green haze on the water
And a boy is eating a melon in a boat with a brown sail.

I
I think you are the silver heart of a great square,
Holding little people like glass beads,
Watching them parade -- parade -- and gather,
When the sun slips to an opposite angle,
And a thunder of church bells lies like a bronze roof beneath the sky.