An old man stands naked
on his balcony.
He has just been swimming
in the waves,
rather, he has just been wading—
enough to make his entire body tingle,
to let sand wrinkle his toes,
and the soles of his feet.
Now he stands on his balcony
head up
conversing with the sun
(at least from here it appears so).
His smile comes from deep within
to spite two bouts with cancer,
a touch of Covid to boot.
He speaks to the sun
saying how grateful,
this atavistic Greek
(whatever lineage he is)
living through myriad generations,
now in this modern opulence
and the wonders of medicine
thrilled to still be alive.