Barcelona

thepoetinthecar

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…………………………………….

Barcelona

The still drunk lay face down

between two dustbins

in the Barcelona street.

Streams of people walked by

most with barely a second glance

or none at all.

His trousers were undone

exposing his buttocks.

I wondered if he was alive

and strained to check

my conscience.

Two police officers stopped

and told me to move my rucksack

around to my front.

Pickpockets, thieves, they gestured.

I will always remember Barcelona

and a rucksack

that mattered.

 

……………………………………

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