Alone in an empty albergue
On the edge of a one-horse town
The door lock sticks
And I am hesitant to leave it unlocked
But terrified of being locked in
In the morning.
You said I should go left
That I would be lonely
But I went right
Determined to separate
From those who planned ahead
From the masses headed to Ourense.
I will miss the shared wine and olives
Of the rainy afternoons
As we perched like iguanas
Turning our faces and feet
To the little sun that broke thru
Yet most of all
I will miss our late night talks
In the enveloping darkness of the hostels
The only place more unwalled
Than the Camino itself.
Scallop Songs 