First morning in Spain,
not counting when the plane
landed and we rushed
language-less to find customs
and our bags, I am sitting
at the quiet table watching
a mountain rise out of the sea
with the sun, water and sky
shades of blue we don’t often
see in America. I’m a cup
of coffee into the day,
my legs still sore from flight
and the train ride to Alicante.
Taken by a sheer shelf
of rock, tan and white,
lacking vegetation, and by
a haze of cloud above the whole,
a kind of mother mountain
behind the un-man-made protuberance.
From a safe distance, I am watching
the water as it carries fishing boats
and night cares out to sea.
Michael Neal Morris has published several stories, poems, and essays in print and online. He lives with his family just outside the Dallas area and teaches Composition and Creative Writing at Dallas College’s Eastfield campus.