Last day in Barcelona

Sailor suit hopscotch

across the flagstones

Balearic sun paints the square

The cafes fill, seats and umbrellas

Dot

like blots on celluloid

The error of their imperfection

captured in beauty by light

She was perfect in profile

holding that tray

the fall of her hair

balancing glasses

When the rains came

her skirts twirled

lost in turning parasols

They vanish all

fleeing the downpour

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