Swollen

Granada doesn’t want your automobile,
She wants your feet to feel
The rocks, the cobblestones,
Your heels to wobble, your ankle bones
To groan as you ascend the Albayzin,
Your knees to realize what it means
To be a city bursting seams
With poets’ dreams and myster-schemes.

Granada, Spain, Andalucia, Albayzin, Walking, Mirador, Rocks