Elsewhere...

A melancholic mood found me
in Basilica San Francisco el Grande
beneath its whispering cúpula
bearing prayers for those in need

But nothing is straightforward here

The portero gestured me
to join the formal tour
whose guide was an Iberian uncle Jack
Encyclopaedic, slight stoop
but Jack, nonetheless

At each capilla, on his cue
the group of strangers raised its eyes
to survey water-damaged frescoes
And there I released a little prayer

One for a fading firebrand
confined to bed
in the downstairs living-room
of her semi

Death has his work cut out there

One for relations
whose jobs may soon be lost
in the name of ever-higher profit
and pursuit of boardroom bonuses

Another for an aunt who
year on year bats against the odds
And for my cousin
who occupies the other crease

One for better times

And
Since we're here
A small one for me and you