Granada

by Russ Sargent

When you walk down
from the Alhambra, take
small steps past the cuevas
and gypsies selling roses.  Feel
lucky when you find the grave
circled with stones and women
dressed in black who beat
olive trees with sticks slowly
filling their nets.  You will
cross where a river was.
Behind a burro carrying dirt.
Feel the pain in your feet as
you descend through the century
plants and find yourself
under the bridge where a man
roasts potatoes in a pile
of burning rags.  Do not notice
how both the river and his legs
are gone.  Just listen to the song.
Listen to the man almost to
his waist in dry ground, singing.