a greek stranger

gentle tugs of the tram,

pulling us through the city,

while tightly packed buildings,

fly behind the speckled glass.

all the rigid, plastic seats taken by the more fortunate;

more fortunate because they don’t have to sway

like a great oak tree in a hurricane,

as the wheels chug along the tracks.

swerving between minuscule cars,

a great snake slithering in a sea of puny fish.

and sandwiched by the battered metal barriers of the tram,

stands a Greek mirage,

a blue crystal among grey pebbles.

with a lengthy marine coat,

and a lacy collar, garnished with a pearly brooch.

yet no masses of luscious locks,

instead,

a perfectly round scalp, with a single curl alongside his ear.

a fashion student, he tells me.

not planning to stay long, he admits,

just for 2 or 3 years,

which in my 12-year-old eyes seems an eternity.

he gestures at my brown plaid school skirt,

claiming its combination with my sweaty white blouse and red tie

is fashionable.

3 quarters of an hour,

like sardines in a can,

filled with conversation,

two different worlds colliding.

and when he finally stepped off,

the world became a bit greyer again,

and the pebbles washed over the gap,

where the exotic shell had once stood.