Spain Poem: 28th Day ( Rough Draft)
by C.M.F
Day 28th of the Spanish lockdown in the Valencia Region , I make my pasta, and think of Italy not so far away from the Costa Blanca. There is an eagle flying over the city outside my window, memories of a city of war during wartime, a fighter jet flying over a city dropping 2,000 pound bombs, but the war outside this window is omnidirectional.
This war stopped every one. Daily routines, Daily living that only a prisoner of war or cellmate understands.
Feeling of confinement
28 days.
Daily at 1900 hours a time of cheer and clapping with the church bells signaling hope.… The claps more meaningful now than a famous football team. People cheering for the drop of deaths and infections. A clap of inspiration and time passed.
The terrain outside the Sky Boat, elevates down to the city of bridges , old buildings, over looking a hill with a huge stone.
Up 2,000 feet , three churches in the distance, old buildings over looking a hill with a cross. The paschal moon shortly appeared this week, illuminating the skies around the world with the death of festivals and celebrations postponed.
A symbolic moment for the people of Spain , for the resurrection of their own nation.
