Authentic Pilgrim Redux

[Jilek, Glenn]

I thought I would send a copy of this poem from Karin Temple's,  "Peregrina".  I did not ask her permission, but perhaps she will forgive me for a bit of advertising of her wonderful collection of poems on the Camino, which can be obtained by e-mailing

StringTownaearthlink.net

Enjoy,
Glenn


El frances de Redecilla del Camino

In spite of bunk-to-bunk
intimacy and loquacity
we never exchanged names
so I secretly called him
Monsieur Aymeric because of
his fanatical eyes and rapid stride
because of his thrift
his shabby clothes
canvas satchel and worn shoes -
laughing, he told of being
taken for a bum back in France
where he slept outdoors.

When I meet him again
on his passage through Burgos
he sits by me briefly
in front of the cathedral
to absolve me.
He absolves me of Goretex and
microfibers of two hundred dollar
boots and a thousand dollar
plane ticket, of bus rides and
hotel beds, of sightseeing
and of the credit card
worn as close to my heart
as the scallop shell -
with the authority of his wide
gap-tooth smile he says:
Madame, un pelerin ne triche pas.
A pilgrim does not cheat.
Each pilgrim is authentic.