This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
To the Old Man in the Rhodes Cafe I enter the small cafe in the early morning rain falling lightly huddled together a dozen Greek men smoking their interminable cigarettes drinking coffee and cognac are talking loudly old now from years of hard toil I can see the wrinkles and holes in their faces like cold sponges on the ocean floor and yet these old men I know their laughter I know their laughter means this is the beginning of another day would you relive your life? live it over to make sure your face had no holes or scars? you say you would – if only you could have a face new as smooth and soft as sand on the beach but how would you do it? in the early morning rain these old men squeezed together between five small round tables sit with their legs crossed and watch each other smoke and talk and then laugh how much is this laughter worth? the old man next to me orders a last coffee and cognac he looks at me and waves asking me to join him I cannot help feeling he has read my thoughts I was thinking about his death thinking that he would die soon and how foolish some questions are this old man is not going to relive his life none of us will in the end he had answered my question again laughter was more than death laughter was the beginning of each morning of each night was the sky and slow falling rain I looked at the others and I saw countless cigarettes and then laughter overwhelm the quiet sky