A wide-open day
on the terrace
of an empty taverna
in Plaka
being decked out
for spring.
Three new friends from last night
trimming fences, mending chairs,
planning murals; a beaker
of retsina and some squid
with a golden half-lemon.
An endless afternoon
without borders or expectations
passed luxuriously exploring
each other's dreams,
while bare vines
on the white walls around us
surge slightly with new life
and stretch imperceptibly
at the smell of the new season's paint
and the blue and white oilcloth
in the sun.