Sameba 2019

Retreating through trellises of grapes

growing woven through rubber bands;

through the rose garden, fragrance hanging ancient 

in the beading humidity –

I snapped the line of mopeds collapsed rubble

all down the sloping street, wheels to the curb;

suspended sheets pennants on clotheslines

from balconies to crumbling apartments.

Remember when you taught me how

to fold a flag with purpose,

to store it with care.

I had never given it much thought before.

Fitting into frame your face on foreign steps,

yellow marble chapels high relief against a cloudless sky; 

aspirant, pressing one more, just you –

you – 

seeking cake, coffee, na wynos, peripatos,

two flavors shared between – 

exit viewfinder, enter buzzing,

braiding paths of tourists and true believers.

I wish I had thought to capture 

the crisp white of your new linen shirt,

sweated through the back 

from that morning’s wrong directions.