Seeds Of Cadiz

On the volcanic Canaries the sky was full of empty
The tiny yellow birds we had sailed across the ocean to find
Had long since flown
Nowhere to be found
Were not now here and never were

But here was Manrique in the land of Lanzarote
A cave dweller of the highest degree
A rich man’s toy may he be
A dangerous man with time on hands and blood on his lips
He was born here, deported himself
Returned again to join the black undulating landscape
A thorn by the garden of thorn fruited succulents
The sky clear bright unforgiving azure
Native namesake dogs on the hunt
Backdrop to rolling mounds of black lava flows
Set cool to the touch eons ago

Art of an abstraction simplistic to the mind
Dead men bite back when provided the time
The ship signaled a plea for our return
But not the place from where we started
With the seeds of Cadiz wrapped snugly
For the Sea of Sargasso we departed

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