A Stradivarian wind ripples through the cafe
As we bend turn lift spin
Pas de deux our tables.
An allegro dash across the dining room is punctuated by
A soup of clef and breve on a bar line of
Vodka gin dry dirty stirred
Martini full vibrating to the music of
The street musician.

He stands on the walk by the water embracing the
Feminine curves of his violin,
Following the adagio of the tide as a
Meandering lattice of crowd drops dollar bills into his hat.

He is deaf to the din of the staccato cries of
Kitchen boys just steps away competing with
Their sharp mezzo forte of shouts.

His music breaks the monotony of pastitsio plates high on trays
Espresso nights and baklava hands a blind cycle of
Specials and chasing tips in time to the pulse of the café.

I slip outside of this and find my place in
The quiver of a dulcet breeze, quietly seated by
The silent man who sings to me nightly with
The smooth stroking of his violin.

I am the guest of honor, dining on notes and chords,
Marinating in the flavor of a sweet twilight song.

Mimi Vaquer has never really gotten around to leaving Savannah, GA, where she was born in 1974. Currently, she is pursuing her
Masters at Armstrong Atlantic State University and is also an 8th grade English teacher. Mimi has previous and upcoming publications
in Willard and  Maple, Foliate Oak, Steam Ticket Journal, Grey Sparrow Press, Oak Bend Review and Ouroboros Review among others.


Copyright 2009