Like the smooth stones
that sleep in your sidewalks,
you are a lovely mosaic
with roots, deep and rich.

You are the old woman,
crossing the street alone
with her grocery bags
under the stars of night.

You are the trumpeter
playing in the town square
for the lonely man eating tapas
and young lovers drinking wine.

You are beautiful but not pretentious,
the cogs of your inner workings
go about their day thoughtlessly
as they do in any place, everywhere.

Yet, your charm, it is palpable,
your voice has softened my edges
in ways I can’t quite comprehend,
like a sweet song sung somewhere beyond us...Lisboa.

(All photos are original.)

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