Snapshots - Spain
Aloe verde spikes against the hard blue Spanish sky.
Brown arid stretches of land,
the sun sucking and endless seasons.
The swish of water sprinklers.
Shouts of the border guards.
Empty villages at three o' clock.
Stray dogs pack, yap into the yellow haze.
Mothers, call their children, "Ninos, ninos, ven aqui."
The silence above the blue sea and below the blue sky,
the rush of waves over rocks.
the smell of the dumping ground,
where rats bred in winter.
Auntie Betty, smiling in her first agonies of Alzheimer's.
Empty air, legs hot and red, blisters on children's shoulders,
cars breaking down, money gone. Two pesetas left and an empty house.
A flight to Morocco, the death of a friend, a pauper's funeral.
Small smiles, smashed toys and tumbled chairs, a grip around the throat.
A lone cry for help in the black warm night.
A body carried out to sea by mistake.
A glass of beer left on the bar.
A baby crying in desperation.
Walks to empty memories,
Women in black on the wrecked sea front.
Women crying. Sea gulls circling, scavenging, cawing in pain.
Small pebbles sharp between the toes.
Sand too hot to walk on.
Gap toothed Christabel the gypsy.
Two-faced tourists.
The shouting of bull baiters, the fear of blood,
veins throbbing, gored and full of the lust for death.
The view over the deep gorge of Rhonda.
The constant grate of voices.
The constant silence.
