Dead Aragon Village

I want to live where the condor soars
Dead village sits arrogantly on hill above clear blue lake

I want to swim where the salmon talk

Mountain condor sweeps under church
spire of dead village

I want to live in colours of Aragon

I touch my face as condor
Swoops below my heavenly perch
The wetness of eyes is contrasted by
The burn of flesh on nose

I want to join the royal fish swimming

Snaking to oceans of wheat
Creature resembling man sits on
Church tower of dead village
Franco dictator`s guns of silence
Hidden by time and the echoes stopped reverberating
I want to climb in mountains of
Sand and eat the fruits of the condors`power

Single occupied house in a field
of  desertion talks loudly
wander paths of ruin of killed houses
twist like a rattlesnakes tail
up to church where
regal condor laughs at divinity

I want to eat the fruits of decay

Blackcurrent thorns cut open legs
Spiralling, twisting, checking derelict houses
Roof lies in cellar
Crying in broken wine bottles

I want to drink as the locals did

Open toed sandals catch glimpse of loose gravel sounds
Village sleeps with arrogant breathe
Lake laps shore with salmon smiling
At sunshine explosion

I want to swim in azure pastures

Condor glides to hunt next pre-packaged dinner
King of airwaves between
Earth and jet-plane flightpaths

I want to wander the air like the freedom spirit
Of condors wingspan

Condor spins into mountains of
Stoney forest
Salmon swims to shady lake reeds
Man twists blackberries into sweetmouth
Village is left alone in Aragon sun
All is silent
In a cricket-song concerto