Against the cool white walls,
the odor of geraniums
ablaze in wooden boxes
in the narrow streets of the old city.

The odor of geraniums.
The girl leaning from the upstairs windowsill
in the narrow streets of the old city
gazes at pedestrians below.

The girl leaning from the upstairs windowsill
(tousled hair aflame with the retreating sun)
gazes at pedestrians below.
A woman smiles slowly.

Tousled hair a flame with the retreating sun,
she lifts her gaze to meet her gaze.
A woman smiles slowly;
memory calls.

She lifts her gaze to meet her gaze.
A blaze in wooden boxes,
memory calls
against the cool white walls.