Cobbled streets, <br />shop street-Gaillimh <br />in mind. No Avada. de Esteiro. <br />Right next to work, the <br />cobblestones of old <br />Celts. <br /> <br />Channelling the energy <br />through feet, I try to <br />gain a sense of <br />familiarity. <br /> <br />Too many Spanish kids going: <br />‘...no entiendo, no entiendo’. <br /> <br />Yo no había entendido. <br />Not until I heard the busker’s flute <br />on a side street off Plaza <br />de Espana. <br /> <br />Mystic Celtic beauty <br />capsized every ear.<br /><br />Maude O hAnnain<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-galicia/
