The Man With His Back To The Room
A young herder plays his flute & his leader her jangling bell & in the olive groves the trees are full & soon, before the ripest begin to fall, the women will come & spread the cloths & the young men will climb out where they can & shake the tree & loose the rest & rush to the press & that night the pungent oil . . .
Greens & black & gray & pink & purple & cracked & whole & pitted & stuffed &
cured with onions & garlic & peppers hot & peppers sweet & thyme & tarragon & dill &
sampled with breads from Barcelona & cheeses from Pamplona & a cool glass of Fino from Jerez &
the oil you'll drizzle on ripe tomatoes & onions & anchovies & toasted baguettes & this you'll serve in the shade
of a misty August afternoon as the families gather & the kids race to soccer & the women shuffle & riffle the cards &
grandfathers stare like pilots into the distance
for that perfect place to land...