Rhythm of the Plaza

Small talk and laughter

capture the Andalusian plaza

until the wind of the Costa del Sol

subsides and the guests drift

into bed’s silent gift

After which, at night, in the dark,

workers clear tables and chairs,

restoring order to the park.

And the sweeps remove all signs

of yesterday’s excess,

including the violet blooms

freshly fallen

from the jacaranda trees

With the gentle breeze off the coast,

the sun arrives to soak

the white stucco exterior

and terra cotta

roofs of the plaza

The petite barista at Vinilo

flexes her muscle to reassemble

tables, chairs and six-foot umbrellas

broken down just

a few hours earlier.

Like the nearby bouganvillea,

she does her work without fanfare,

without complaint

in the still quiet

while no one notices

The morning is the province

of Estepona’s frenzied swifts

scouting out the first meal

And the rhythm of the plaza

is so much better

than my routine of

reading the newspaper

to see what chaos

was writ yesterday.