The Waiter Serves an Ouzo

The waiter serves an ouzo and watches us as we watch him, he’s served his other customer and the peace returns again

I was looking through the window of
the car, we sped through the
coastal mountain stars,
the scene before my eyes a
picture postcard.

A crescent moon shines silver,
the hilltops black but tinged
with the red hue of the
setting sun,
the sea below a metamorphosising
3-D jigsaw of silver grayish clouds.

I was thinking, as I listened to
the music, we sat outside a
small town bistro,
the peace, the night, the cricket calls.

The waiter serves an ouzo and
watches us as we watch him,
he’s served his other customer and
the peace returns again.

The only break above the buzz,
the occasional voice, the juke box fuzz,
is the droning sound of the
passing car, and give us two
eyelids and that’s where we are.

Copyright: Anthony Leonard Ostheimer (ALO), 11 September 1972