SPANISH INTERLUDE
(For Pauline)
Behind us crystal curtains
Flow over royal fountains.
Madrid’s sunlight is unkind
To our aging skin, but her pixie
Style bridges the years
Since I last saw my earliest
Friend. We were spanked
For crossing streets and wheeling
Doll carriages around the block.
We whispered forbidden secrets
And played ring-o-leave-o after dark.
Now we have escaped for a week
On a trans-world getaway
From family responsibility.
Palace flags flap.
Sipping diet drinks,
We watch a gardener shaping
Boxwood towers. Having sought out
Marzipan, porcelain and damascene,
We are free to recall paella
On Fishermen’s Beach, staccato
Heels and castanets, Velasquez’
Golden glow, reflections
Of roses in Moorish pools.
Lacy arches, Don Quizote
Tilting with windmills, olive trees,
Neanderthal caves on Gibralter, and
At El Escorial the odor of mortality.