Andalusia

Past dusty rows of jagged mountains
Speckled with villages, blurred in the haze
Over Granada, where gardens sang with grinning fountains
Where we'd wandered in morning's shade, in distant days
To the sea, foam-flecked, sweeping to a brooding line
Of misty dark that could have been mountains or clouds
Plunging, touching down, wincing at the screeching whine
Of tires sparking in asphalt, expecting jet-lagged crowds
To burst into applause, then remembering soaring through the sky
Is no longer a miracle, distant music buzzing
Lionel Richie sings 'Hello' and I start to wonder why
I'm so sad now I'm finally returning
To memories of warm nights on choked streets
Drunken dancing, fluttering of green-white flags
Eyes stung red with chlorine, blinking at rusting fleets
Slicing the sea, heads garbed in warrior-rags
Found in the sand, wading through a thick, warm estuary
Plunging through scented lemon-groves to a shaded bar
Where weathered locals silently drink, sipping G &; T
In the morning and beyond a strip of blooded tar
Reed-clad slopes rising to bald battered rock
Where we rode through yellowed grass, over dripping foothills
Then sitting at night, forgetting the clock
Only the hiss of the tide, swollen moon fills
Star-spattered sky.
I'm sad because they're only memories
My time will have passed
Only dreams seem to last.