we sleep in a cave

a cave within a slant of layered rock

that sweeps to the sea

and in the sea   which is a shade of blue

we have never seen

urchins by the score   scores of scores

during the day we hide from the sun

reading novels   venturing out

in the evenings to walk up the hill   into town  

to wash away the salt behind dimitri's home   

me dimitri   you dimitri 

then   dinner at his restaurant    gaily lit

with strings of colored lights   dinner which his wife  

serves with a smile   graciousness   and retsina 

~

other nights   we sit at a table by the sea   

a plate of olives   a glass of ouzo   

the heat lessening   watch the sunset

as fisherman come in to the docks with their catch   

at the town square   young men   

handsome and bold   walk in pairs   strut in pairs   

holding hands   white shirts open to the waist   

black pants tight   preen

before girls   shy or coy   who whisper and laugh

walk their own walk   or sit on the warm stonework

of the fountain   while in the last light   

old men at backgammon sip strong coffee   heavy with sugar   

talk politics   certain of their gruff

and baritone words

~

sometimes one needs a cave

a sea to swim in  

a rock to lie upon   a book to read

sights that are new and lasting   

a place to wash  

another to eat and drink   find gaiety

in strings of colored lights   hear a friendly word

from a stranger   find hope

in a sun-bleached   white-washed world   in a town

as pure and self-contained as this   where fisherman

make a living by the sea   

and young people find what they are looking for

right before their eyes   and it is enough   

at least for this moment