Anything That Can Go Wrong...

It was a perfect day
hot July with hardy flowers growing
bright reds and yellows
as we walked hand in hand
down cobblestone corridors
old brick leaning in from rooftops
and shadows where we caught our breath

It was the perfect day for flavored ices
the old Italian Vendor
smiling into his soft white whiskers
slipping something murmured about young love
and peddling away his goods

It was the perfect day, and I said it
as I knelt down on one knee
the prismed light bouncing
from my open palm
and a small black jewelry box

"It was the perfect day," I whisper
within your slumb'ring ear
gently brushing back your hair
and pocketing
all your traveler's checks.