Communique from Cómpeta – #3

First there was this, one morning, with the sun still newborn

Beckoning quaintly, softly, painted on a rock wall

No flashy billboards in this quiet mountain town, stuffed with garishness

Fake smiles filled with fake teeth, techno beats from advertising dances

Here they keep it simple. This is what we offer, drop by should the mood strike

It did, so we followed the arrow

Lovely food, with the attendant grace of true service and not unrequited attitude

Sun-burnished locals wandered through the open patio

Some stayed and joined, others just said hello, drifting among the tables

All were friends here, including the quartet they’d just met

We eventually moved on, as one must do, other things to explore

Like another patio in another square, later, with the sun aging

Where the welcoming committee was a bit more furry


He didn’t give his name, but cats often don’t

Still, he encouraged all of us to stroke him briskly, repeatedly, navigating the forest of our legs and attentions

He mewed, he did, telling us of his wants and desires

Most of them centered on the contents of nearby tables

Potential dropped manna from a shorter sky, hope springing eternal

But he had other dreams as well, secret quests

One of them called to him, as they do, and he slipped away

Fog on little cat feet

The bell in the nearby church tower spoke of a long hour

Darkness comes late this month of the year, but still it comes

It was time to go, but hard to do

As the locals continued to circle the square

Calling out greetings across the cooling cobblestones…


Greetings from Cómpeta, Spain. More to follow. Assuming the cat doesn’t convince me to follow the fog to a secret place in our faded imaginations…


26 replies »

  1. This is such an evocative piece of prose that I literally feel the fur and hear the purr of the cat as it weaves amongst you and the clanging of the bell in the distance, the scorching dry Spanish sun caressing my needy skin and my (albeit it rather tired and hungover) eyes safe behind their Jackie-Os seruptitiously scanning for more visual delights on which to sate myself. The tapas and the crisply chilled cava call me …. I’m assuming you wouldn’t consider swapsys just now, right? 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, my. I thought you WERE with us on the Gato Patio. There was a stylish woman at a table, off to one side, surveying all with a pleasantly keen air, jotting notes in a worn leather journal and smiling at private thoughts. I now hope she doesn’t mind that I slipped her a note as we left. “Meet me at our special place by the fountain so we can swap journals and carry on.” Perhaps she just laughed it off and tossed a bit of yummy to the gato…

      Liked by 1 person

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