Once again, stranger, I am thinking of you,
atop that hotel in Catalonia
on the cusp of a new wave,
sun blazing, streets like a hive,
the fizz of euphoria.
The first time you ever held a gun,
made in Oviedo, the M1916 Mauser
slung over one shoulder, a glint
of a smile on your face saying nothing but
more than enough nine decades on.
uniform with the sleeves rolled up,
face of anti-fascism
but you didn't know it,
nor did you know the hotel
your feet graced would be gone
after bloodshed, your later years
in the French capital,
the photo of you stored
inside the crucibles of time.
Written: January/February/March 2021.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time - edits are likely. It is inspired by the image of then teenager Marina Ginestà atop the former Hotel Colón in Barcelona on 21st July 1936. The photo is deemed one of the most iconic images of the Spanish Civil War.
A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.