a cool breeze blows in from the Aegean,
  bouzouki music, in the
     narrow
 streets
men hearty with sunburn sing and toast me with small glasses
  come, come, they say and gesture
   they eat big meals
  have tables full
     of lamb
        and wine
sing songs that wander over the bar
   the way the streets wander, come come, they say,
i
 sit down shyly on the street
   shake my head, no    they gesture
    better to sit here, they say
in front of the music, i come
   sit at the table, with the broad shoulders
     and the old women, nodding, and singing
try to get the greek rhythm, hum phrases to myself,
hoping      to get the gist       of it                  remember…
          if I could take it all home in a glass
this music, the aegean, the blue-green sea, so gentle, salty
         its slab-craggy coast and the strong men
    who wave their arms out from the elbow, and snap
          their fingers, on “two”, and  “four”
                i am looking for a place to dance
             i want to dance the sea
            dance the air in waves
        the cool fig tree’s shadow, that
               frames the aegean,
while i look magic in the eye,    inhale
      …again…