Leonidio, Evening

I stopped on the road above the harbor,
not for long.
A turn in the hillside, a low wall,
white posts set at intervals.
Below, the lights had begun.

Someone passed behind me,
speaking to a child in a language I half know.
A door closed.
A motorbike started, then faded.

The flag moved slightly,
not enough wind to call it that.
Just motion.

I stood there as if expected,
as if I had always known this place,
though I have not.

It came to me then, quietly,
that I might stay.
Not forever.
For a time.

That thought was enough
to make me cautious.

The mountains were already dark.
The water held what light remained.
No one marked my presence.

I did not speak.
There was nothing to say
that would not disturb it.

After a while
I turned back the way I had come,
careful not to look too long.

It is better, perhaps,
to take such moments as they are given,
and not ask
how long they intend to last.