through open balcony doors
late afternoon breezes
heavy
with the scent
of oleander
brush against my cheek.
church bells toll,
their dull metallic ring
echoes
over empty docks
with all fishing boats
still out to sea.
snippets of conversation
float up from the street
as old men
swap stories over cold beer
about glory days
long past.
cumulus clouds
blow in from the west
while my ceiling fan slices
humid air
in a vain attempt
to cool my naked flesh.
i can’t recall the steps
which led me here,
but in my white-washed room
i’m left
longing for home
as the sun slowly sets.
