Mrs. Dimitri 2009

The lady sits in her black dress Her back to the white washed wall Such a contrast like typed words on a page She tells you her story without a sound Husband gone, died but fourty years before (She will mourn but another fourty more) Children have all deserted, jumped off the island Agriculture has no future for a medical degree Chairs sat empty yet organised around her As if they once had been filled with purpose A smile, the only entrance fee to her hospitality A million wishes granted inside a clear liquid bottle Yamas, Yasas, Na ci calla Sweet oranges she peels to bid you on your way She hopes their golden juices might tempt you back But her heart as dark as her dress knows you won't And so she waits on the next group to empty To find her, discover and applaud her A quaint break from the ancient ruins that slowly devour her