Sitting in Santander

sitting in Santander
the morning clouds
don't want to rise
from the bed of the land
across the Bay of Biscay.

time passes
and every place
each person
I love
is right here
this very time
though
in different places

yet I carry them all
Inside me
in the perpetual moment
where I sit
this day
watching only
a fisherman
cast his line
reel it in against the muscle
of the Bay
then
cast it out
again