Good Water (Alfama)
Sloping down the hill
in Alfama she clicks the cobbles
with new flats
unmarred by the old streets.
Purse strap clutched, her legs
stretch the pencil skirt beneath
the sleeveless tank.
The slope of her shoulders,
strength of her collarbones,
bring purpose to cool morning.
Too early for sunglasses,
fresh plucked eyebrows
serve to frame her face.
Arch, tight, precise-
they lift as her bracelets
hail a taxi.