DUBROVNIK 1972.

[dadio]

Dubrovnik seemed
a second home,
and you, in a street

cafe, sat drinking coffee,
with that book on
Schopenhauer open

on the table, a cigarette
smoking in an ashtray
unattended, thinking

of the girl in the hotel
restaurant the night
before, the waitress

who smiled at you as
she served and went
by your table, and your

brother said, I don’t
fancy yours much,
indicating with a nod

of head, another
waitress over by a
nearby table, plump

and spotted, wearing
a scowl instead of a
smile, and all the while,

he eyeing, as young
men do the beauty
that had caught your

eye going by, but all is
fair in love, so men
have said, so picking

up the book on
Schopenhauer, and
further reading,

holding the cigarette
between the fingers
of the hand not

turning pages, you
inhaled with deep
concentration the

smoke and words
spread across the
page, written by a

philosopher of a
foreign tongue
and different age.

[Christopher T. George]

Hi dadio

Your poem well captures the scene, the somewhat cruel exploitative thoughts of the men, the characters of the women, and carries us through the scene very nicely. Glad to see the photograph of you back then as well. An idea for revision might be to add something more of the local color which you will know about and might add more for the reader who has not visited Dubrovnik. That's not to make it a travelog but more to add some details that you might have noticed that the general tourist would not. Just to enrich the poem. Good luck, dadio.

Best regards

Chris

[dadio]

Thank you, Chris for reading the poem & comments.

[the mingo]

ya handsome devil you

[dadio]

was, the mingo, was maybe.

[the mingo]

yeah, I hear that.

[dadio]

[creativesoul]

nice write

[dadio]

Thank you, creativesoul