Madrid

I think of Madrid
where once we hold hands
where we gave each other little kisses
like a pecking woodpecker
in love with a sap-giving bark.

I think of the blue blue sky of Madrid
and of the songs that celebrate that hue
that color blue of the purest love
the one we made in Madrid

I think of Madrid
their bull-crazy people
their joy in overdrinking a glass of cherry
of tapas
cheese olives assorted spicy meats
self-inked octupus
and seashells with some sauce
that Madrid sauce
so full of life
and brilliant oil

I think of Madrid
the place where you were born
the church with the virgin and the pillar
her face glowing
smiling
holding tenderly the child
and whose name is also yours