Spain

by

Ed Hanson

"Oiga" I called to the waitress,
And she came over to our table.
"Dos naranjas, por favor," I requested.
"Would you like fresh or bottled?" she responded,
Recognizing me as norteamericano,
Another chance to practice dashed,
Although I am sure she was just
Trying to be helpful,
But I did not come
All the way to Spain
To speak my native language.
And as I watched, I saw
She was just as good
With French, German, and Swedish,
But not so good pa-Russki,
Though she certainly did try.
And I had to wonder
Just how much Spain was left
In a land bled dry by wars
Fought against itself
Until few were left,
Who could stand up
And count themselves Spaniards,
When all the tourists
Have gone home.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Life,give me a break.
by: Faye Hoffman
from: Ketchikan, AK, US

To visit all of Ed Hanson's poems, click HERE

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