The wind started up
gently
erratically
without rhythm
Lisbons' skies ushered in the darkening clouds
of imminent rain
then teased us all
with brief, sudden rays of sunlight
that soon, we knew, would disappear all together
Largo do Intendente hung with a haze of muttered chatter
its murky undercurrent weaved patterns
from tables to benches to doorways and alleys
Behind each door
stories, I sensed, as intricate as the cobbled streets outside
Lisbon, Portugal // 29"03"16