somewhere in Catalonia

somewhere in Catalonia
la Plaça fills sedately as 
ancients in wheelchairs
gather in the shade
of wild olive and myrtle trees
to smoke and think
nod and doze
they used to mutter bitterly
of the desecration of
La Capella de Santa Eulalia 
by ‘Nationalists’ in thirty-six
but that subject has run its course
now they sit in remembrance silence,
a silence broken by
cockerel dodging squawking hens 
stray dogs snapping
pigeons squabbling
children tussling
and grunted welcomes
to compañeros arriving
in the canyon lanes
of shuttered houses
balconies sprout  – 
a chained-up bicycle hangs from one
a caged linnet sings
of it’s life left behind
in dusty terracotta pots
wisteria droops
yuccas and cacti flourish 
senyera estelada flutter
in the languid breeze
downtown sign-boards
offer plato combinados
(good price today… special)
to tease dollars from 
the wallets of tourist trekkers
amid the hubbub of
sports and karaoke bars
and Euro-pop from flip-flop shops
La Capella de Santa Eulalia
stands silent, brooding
its congregation long deceased
the wheelchair riders
in la Plaça know the history
but lips are pursed.

© coolhermit 2023
UKA Editor's Pick!
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critique and comments welcome.
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The Catalonian and pretty much all peninsular villages have a feel like you describe. Some pro some against Franco. Still yearned for by many in the Catholic church and in the Canary Islands. His vicious ghost lives on. Spain is changing, but like the UK some drag their feet.
I liked this.


Did you ever see the video of a guy from Barcelona being presented with a white car he won on a game show. Shit there’s some real hatred there 🙂


If you ever go to Brisbane don’t ask for a Fosters!
You’ll probably get away with a VB though.

Last edited 2 years ago by Guaj

Evocative poem. Of course it makes me want to go and get my dollars teased out of my wallet.

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