Tangier Medina Poem by Francis Poole

Late evening in Tangier
walking down Rue Angleterre
to the Grand Socco then on down
to the Petit Socco and a left into
Dar Baroud and the hotel
overlooking the port.
A cool breeze
funneled up through the alleys
and I heard the sound of footsteps
coming from somewhere.
Tiny shops lit by gas lamps
blue flame glow on faces.
a lone figure
standing on the hotel terrace
overlooking the port.
He's smoking a cigarette
with his collar turned up
like Camus having one
of those moments
when the here and now
seems to be saying,
It's ok to pretend
that you know
what's happening.