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Poem	(a) orihuela-time the sun in orihuela calms the dust and people glide about the streets at ease (problems left indoors to cool themselves) time has grown fat and no one cares to pin each minute to its proper place the day is long tomorrow's not yet real doves and old men occupy the squares nattering to each other in such tongues that take the clock away from what is time i could be moorish strolling in this heat past tiled seats paved stones and dusty plants a town that knows the desert's not far off only the traffic fusses about like now fuming and farting worse than any horse desperate to catch up centuries of drift and get the people moving like machines a modern bustle seeps up through the drains where buildings fall to caterpillar tracks that night we're in a garden roofed in glass a hothouse cafe where candles play at stars sipping iced drinks and talking casually a silence green and golden threads our bones and tapestries contain us - time's come unstuck each gesture shall be / was - the present glows (b) spanish day all i hear at first are sparrows i come to the window - they are foraging across the grassless ground their chirps are business voices grunts of satisfaction a comment on the nature of their find the morning's cool - some fifteen trees in rows with broad-splayed leaves are caught by breeze and flutter like the hands of pale young ladies gathered half-undressed a car glides past the hedge with muted sound a lorry chugs uphill - the sky is trembling out of grey with that first flat blue that says the sun is indirectly on its way the breeze is cool but being spain i stand in short shirt-sleeves - my forearmed hairs accept the ruffling breeze and wait for warmth i follow a car's noise down the hill it fades - a silence stands with arms outspread catching all breath - i listen more intently from my cell-like room where cubby holes of dark have not yet given into morning a sharper breeze now roughs it through the trees and every leaf would run away but can't so stays and rattles off complaints metallically the sparrows beat their beaks more urgently and i am thrust at by a stab of sun the rooftop opposite has a golden cowl rays slide down and leap into the trees the breeze desists the leaves play mute in no time sun has occupied the square my room's invaded - dark stains are blanched coolness abandoned for the next few hours the heat-to-come has come - the spanish day has no fancy way to sell its onions you take it or you leave it – sweatingly
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