Images of Portugal


                                                                                          The House of the Winds...


...I think this was called.

We must have found that in the Michelin Guide

Since we talked to no-one about it,

Not that there was anyone to talk to about it when we were there:

No sight nor sound of anyone indoors,

The street bare of people

And not even a stray dog around.


I can’t check the name of the place (since I gave the Guide away),

Whether that was it or why it was if it was.

And the Guide wouldn’t say anything in any case

About the open window,

Why it was open when there was no glass anyway

And the air was free to flow through all floors

So what was special about that room?


Ah, that is the room the winds blow through,

And that wide-open window is the one that draws all memories

Into the gloom,

Where they swirl for a while

Then drift off into the void.


It stole our thoughts from the street where we stood

And read the Guide

And forgot what it said

And lost the name of the town

And the time of day;

And I can’t now recall what we talked about then

Or if we held hands as we walked away.