Lemon leaves

There were fishing boats gathering
In the Bay in front of the Tapas Bar, Castro
Near the lemon trees both beautiful and useful behind me
Further up the hills, farms and more lemon groves
A lemon seed was planted in my heart
Whilst I stood on two concrete slabs on the quayside
My hair dancing in the turquoise and ochre light
Lemon leaves at my feet
I wonder if there are scorpions and spiders hiding in the hills
A magical ghost town full of rocks
I will open a store and sell nothing for this is Cantabria
I will live in a trailer close to the hills
Filled with salvageable imaginable thing from the shores
Have a goat named Angel
And weave lemon leaves through my hair