when my feet were sore
we shuttled as tourists do
from one cobbled shop to the next
fitting in more than we should
seeking water, hoping for tea,
and happening upon the oceanfront
through the broken gate
all suddenly familiar
ruins piled in their own
kind of beach head,
covered with graffiti,
teenagers tramping for bait
grown ups looking on, mindful
the sea air insisting
in its universal way
that we all take breath;
the sun lowered itself
for vespers; propped
on an old stone wall,
you questioned me
in the wrong language
and I chided you
——————-
Inspired by a lovely travel poem by Jennifer Knoblock.
Poems from in between 
6 responses to “One day in Tangiers”
This is just wonderful…I felt like I was there with you. Great sense of place with an undercurrent of longing (at least for me). The ocean does that to me, I guess.
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Thank you very much. Yes, for me, too. The ocean and sky are the universals for travelers. They always bring me home when I am feeling at a loss.
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This is just so lovely in the way each stanza is a vignette, or maybe a little chocolate square to be savored. 🙂 I love especially “seeking water, hoping for tea,” and the image of the sun propping itself on the old stone wall, as tired as the poor tourists.
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Glad you liked it. Thanks!!
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Compelling, as usual 🙂 I love your work!
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Thanks! You made my day!
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