The Med dances in blue ripples
A refrain heard in soft cadences
In between roars of mopeds
And hushed conversations

A cloudless December sky
And an empty bench
For summers’ ghosts
Consider the untouchable

A preoccupied winter sun gazes
Remote nearly indifferent
To her shades of being
Bored with her indigo

Other latitudes beckon
Hues of lapis and turquoise
Or mysterious green aqua
Colors fondly remembered

Tasted with abandon
Delightfully explored
Deliciously savored
Delectably shadowed

The waves are shallow
Cold and uninviting
Grey water breathes her dreams
The Med tiptoes on blue ripples