Awash in spring heat,
the town nearly sweat itself
into a nap. Streams
of ill prepared tourists
bent glistening necks
like Chinatown ducks
toward expensive baubles
hanging in windows.
A man, middle aged,
hiked his paints up above
his ponderous waist,
commenting on a painting
in a gallery window.
His wife, under a wide
brimmed straw hat
turned her oversized
sunglasses toward him
and sneered something ugly
at him. He lumbered on,
as she lingered near the
multifaceted light reflecting
from a windchime, transfixed.
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