we eat on the deck
overlooking the boats, the flags,
the sailors
and tourists
walking below.
the breeze lifts our umbrella
enough
to tell us we're close
to water.
coffee arrives and arrives,
the waitress
is young, the waiter is
old.
eggs, avocados, toast
and jam.
more coffee, cold juice.
the hours are soft and slow
this far from
home.
a book by the pool, a drink
in hand.
there are no problems
at the moment.
not decisions to be made,
no tears, or arguments to
be found.
we talk of dinner, a walk
through town,
what to eat, to buy,
maybe an ice cream on a sugar
cone before the night
is over, before we lie down.
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