pueblo – Page 8 – don't confuse the narrator

poetry on the bus

The village bus station looks quiet in the photo. Not so the journey into Madrid this morning.

En el autobús,
las viejas cotillean;
sólo los hombres casados
pueden dormir.

Roughly translated:

On the bus
old biddies gossip;
only married men
can sleep.

I swear you could tell which guys were used to nagging wives: they simply closed their eyes and nodded off as if the screeching voices were a lullaby.
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perspective

So much depends

on whether it was
a red wheelbarrow
or an orange cementmixer

on whether it was
glazed with rain water
or shaded
from the setting sun

on whether there were
several white chickens
or just the one, escaped
from the neighbour’s yard

on whether it was
early twentieth century
industrial America
or rural Spain in 2012

on whether it was
William Carlos Williams
who saw the scene
or me.

For the chicken in question,
much more depends
on whether my cats find her
before the neighbour does.

tiger, tiger

I thought circuses with exotic animals had been banned.

It seems I must be mistaken, though, as this poor beast was sitting in the heat of the afternoon in a tiny cage just outside the village bull ring today.

There were several other white tigers, two ‘normal’ tan tigers and a lion, in other cages. Most of them were fast asleep, which is hardly surprising given the fact the sun was shining directly onto the metal trailers.

I suppose it will be a bit cooler this evening, when they perform, but I won’t be going to watch.
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4-ever?

This bench in the village reminded me of the story about the little boy who told his aunt, “I love you millions and billions.”

“I love you, too, dear,” she replied.

At which he burst into tears, sobbing, “Only two?”

bluebirds II

I’ve mentioned before the effect certain blue birds have on me: how they raise my spirits and how, for the (usually brief) moments that they are visible, I forget to do anything other than stand and stare.

This week, though, a jay has visited the vine regularly – I guess the grapes must be just about ripe – so I’ve had my camera to hand on my desk ready for when he appears.

Each morning
a jay visits the vine;
high above, cirrus
whisper of autumn

Normally, even if the camera is easily found, opening windows or doors startles any wildlife away before I can get a picture. But after the recent cleaning binge, I was able to take this photo through the window.

Windows cleaned
inside and out:
how bright the world looks!

Even so, if this is the best I can do, I think next time I’d better leave the bird photography to the experts and settle for recording the image in my memory rather than on my camera’s memory card.