Saturday, December 7, 2024
Poetry

Bon dia, Catalunya

Saturday, 8am, no more can I sleep,
on the balcony I sit, only half-awake, feeling weak.
I spark up a cigarette, sit back in wonder
at what I observe, rolling through the tundra.

Up here, it is peaceful, mostly nature out to play,
save a feint hum of vehicles, in the distance, far away.
The chirping of birds, the crowing of a cockerel,
the call of a wood pigeon, energetic and soulful.

I look out, and around, at the villages in the hills,
houses outnumbered by trees, all calm and still.
The morning sun bounces off everything in sight,
numerous shades of green glisten in the light

Times may be harder in this country paradise,
yet I can’t help but sense a more relaxed way of life.
Though my time here is short, I can’t help but smile and think:
“bon dia, Catalunya, t’estimo moltíssim”.

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