behind a hedge
on pavement edge
circling our tent
a waiter raises up a flap
on the brink of protest
'bout the stink
our camels make
but takes our order nonetheless
lemons figs and apricots
perfumed teas in china pots
and for the herders
'cross the street on the church steps
un carafe d'eau and plain baguettes
we tap out rythmns with our spoons
bubble-pipe mid exhaust-fumes
perfumed in bluish swirls
with music from a hidden source
anticipate the dancing-girls
Stephen Brian Brady
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oasis-in-rome/
