In Seville

.
in Seville, through a narrow 
walks a man, guitar
across his back, we
hear his steps on cobbles echo
and hear his name

he shuts a door, he studies
in the tranquil dark

it gives him peace, he
says (the dark) and
lights a candle wick

this music cleans,
he
says, and plays
a rushing flow of notes
precise and quick,
flamenco-splash
that falls from head
through fingertips to strings
as from the spigot of a spring
more dear than cash

.

 Jim Culleny
2/18/15

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