So engrossed in swashbuckling sounds
of Senor Cabrales in the dimmed community hall
- bouzouki, whistle, bodhran, mandolin, guitars gathering and now cascading
Spanish bagpipes
that when the door behind the stage swings open, admitting afternoon shafts
of sun
and bursting bright water droplets,
takes a bit to cotton:
community baths next door.
bw
1.2.17
|