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Saeta of the Procession

(a saeta is a brief, improvised gypsy song, associated with the high emotion of the Holy Week processions) Once a year O Santiago we gather here for this farrago. Our sandals wear the same old track - once round the square, then shuffle back. With sinners' cones on every head we gaze on bones of saints long dead we hum and strum and ring and sing but don't accomplish anything. This stop and go, it's all in vain - the static flow, the Dance of Spain.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 3/13/2017 9:28:00 AM
I really like this poem. There always seem to be some age old traditions that have some power over us even though, as soon as the music stops, you feel a disconnect.
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Michael Coy
Date: 3/13/2017 10:29:00 AM
Thank you so much, Anne-Marie! Your remarks are very perceptive.
Date: 3/13/2017 7:34:00 AM
Semana Santa.... That strange complete feeling of elation and being joined together by... yes, by what really. I've always felt the sense of belonging enormous then, and the music!
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Michael Coy
Date: 3/13/2017 7:37:00 AM
You have a unique way of hitting the exact spot, and you do it in only a few words. That is Semana Santa, perfectly encapsulated!