5/13 & 14/03
Gijon

To let a place sneak up on me
The smells, the earth and water
To walk with the wind building
In my face

Grinning like a complete idiot
As if finding the ocean was total surprise
Playing children morph into peacocks
The fowl into Spanish boys in wetsuits
Stronger forces are at work here

These corners of the planet that I’ve never been
That are so comfortable to me
There is no question that they are nice
But to feel the dressing of such pleasing clothes occur

Walking through a park
Rich with honeysuckle and enlisted birds on patrol
The sun fades like old curtains in a window
The tide still going out
An old couple holding hands
Walking slow under the streetlights
Their smiles earned and shared

No hand in the dunes, no dunes in fact
Just four plates watching the ocean
Not art for sailors but jewelry for the sea
Baubles admired by passing joggers
and ran round by children

So here another Atlantic poem rests
North of the others, closer to home
The water speaks and I just write it down.