Alhambra Sunset from the Albaicin
From an open window a white lacy curtain flutters.
Late afternoon. Saxophone notes drift into the air
so sad you shiver
as we climb the streets of the Albaicin.
Aurora, saint and mother of the area, smiles
from a church wall.
A tiny teteria with four wooden tables
serves tea in delicate inlaid cups painted
in bright red and blue.
The carmens, their heavy locked wooden doors
hide lush gardens with tinkling fountains.
If we could peak inside
we’d see a 15th century mudejar world behind the door.
On our way, markets with pomegranates, torn posters
of flamenco shows.
As we keep climbing up to San Nicholas, the sun
drops lower in the winter sky. A guitarist of flamenco
with wrinkled smile
in beige beret sings to us of pain and sorrow,
Tourists, legs dangling over the ledge, clap in rhythm,
ready their phones,
poised to click their selfies and sunset photos
of the Alhambra, through the centuries glowing
in crimson and gold.
© Sherri Moshman-Paganos
Sherri Moshman-Paganos is a writer, former educator and native Marylander, based in Athens Greece, where she publishes a monthly travel blog: https://olivesandislands.home.blog. Her poetry and prose have appeared in the GW Review, Remington Review, Ariel Chart International Literary Journal and others. She is the author of a poetry collection, Wanderings: Poems of Discovery, and two memoirs: Step Lively: New York City Tales of Love and Change, and Miss I wish you a bed of roses: Teaching Secondary School English in Greece.
The Loch Raven Review 