Perspective is everything:
From the piazza, you see with hyperclarity
The descending archways
And the partially eclipsed shadowed
Statue of a man on horseback
Above a sunlit plinth.
But straight ahead stands the rose tower
Against a bluegreen sky
Of eternal dawn or dusk.
Its sharp-edged crenellated parapet
And opaque, dark windows and door
Hold its silent, infinite mystery close.