The weathered window is shuttered
And the potted plants untended.
Still, that unknown and unseen within
Conjures an awe-full image.
Heading North on Spanish Street,
Having passed beneath the shade of its trees,
And its white washed walls and embowered balconies
That hug the narrow brick-paved street,
We pause to turn in contemplation,
As if we might gather up the solace we found here
Before we continue our journey toward home.
Embowered by these unkempt oaks
This balcony serves well
To spy on life below but
Safe from annoying engagement.