Malaga

Look up,
away from teeming
streets of Malagueños.
Look up,
leave the swelter
seething, boiling in streets
hard baked by July:
hot-foot-tap-dance
in Larios.

Look up,
toward apartments,
laundry flags waving proud.
Look up,
above tapas bars,
cyber-caffs, bakeries
and language schools
selling English
by the kilo.

Look up,
leave the driver
to the jamming traffic.
Look up,
at the aerial
forest glinting metal-
heliographed babble
in return for
sound and vision.

Look up,
further still to
a sky of aching blue.
Look up,
find one errant
cloud among the contrails,
and enjoy the
impossible
raindrops' falling.