Terzanelle España

Sketches of Spain blown from a horn
smoky blue, painted on Montserrat skies,
drift, echo Catalonia, curve worn

as ancient steps in villages. Paginas torn
from books I never read. Whisper tribal cries
sketches of Spain blown from a horn

in weary cracks of covenant once sworn
to burning bush. Memory bone-bred in sighs,
drift, echo Catalonia, curve worn,

but smoothed by bass tones, forlorn,
craggy as Costa Brava stone, dark eyes,
sketches of Spain blown from a horn,

flamenco sketches sung from miles mourn
for Africa where some beginning lies.
Drift, echo Catalonia, curve worn

like lace and light as ghosts reborn,
mixed in me and you and music. Arise
sketches of Spain blown from a horn,
drift, echo Catalonia, curve worn.