in the soft rain
we leave the puddled,
quiet neighborhood
with quiet smiles
crossing the cobbled streets
where we tired our feet
lifted our spirits
searched for adventures
and something delightful to eat
finding unpretentious magic
and the rise and fall
of long echoed music
along the narrow streets
and shaded plazas
where hardworking waiters
dart back and forth
between a constant, quiet flow
of ever-changing faces
and quietly buzzing kitchens
one door down
or across the street
passing busy thoroughfares
where birds
still out-sing the traffic
and traffic
respects the process
of well placed paths
and being polite
everything moving
as a flamenco dancer
powerful
purposeful
graceful
otherworldly
yet never far from
shadowed sanctums
with colorful tiles
along grand palace walls
cool against my back
or in the generous parasol
of a giant tree
where there is rest
peace
untroubled by the noise of the world
and the noises in me
these now familiar sites
fading to vague silhouettes
fill my mind
with happy thoughts
as we quietly
disappear
Dog-eared Stories by anne celano frohna 