the city of Trieste

walked the streets

of the city of Trieste

the sun was doing fine

heard people talking in tongues

and the name i heard most often was mine

when a woman with darkest hair 

in the bright light of mid-afternoon

strolled into my life

shaking her Bulgarian fork and spoon

said she lived in the Rhodope mountains 

and would i like to take a private walk

but i didn't know

if she only hoped to talk

or was there a boat she wanted to sell

i wish i knew 

but i couldn't tell

her flowers smelled fresh and there were hints of sweet grass

looking low down but feeling high class

my flag flew stiffly in the sea breeze

i saw two peaches at the market that i wanted to squeeze

but i didn't know

if that was the way i wanted to go:

she sat for a drink at the inner harbor bar

waited for me to play a love song on my old guitar

so i bought her a meal while we discussed the deal

well, what would be the cost

considering that i was in a foreign land and terminally lost

but she didn't know

if that was the way she wanted to go

and the music and the dancers in the square

made me wonder if i should be somewhere

kneeling on my knees 

asking for forgiveness, please

looking into her eyes

where i saw a woman's comfort and surprise

but i didn't know

if that was how we should go.