Valencia filled the river bed
And planted trees, with cycle paths
And grassy banks and purple flowers
Between the bridges that still spanned
The wide expanse where once had flowed
The brown and brackish Turia.
Beneath their arches homeless men
Placed mattresses to claim their space,
A dormitory when darkness falls,
But in the brightness of the day
They silently slip down and stroll
To where they might rejoin the throng
And work or beg and not reveal
Their hidden homes beneath the bridge.
Phillip Kahn-Panni
