Mexican night
That distant night in Mexico
the main square in Mérida
where I sat alone
on a bench
in the intense heat
and at my feet
a carpet of tiny spiders
the bustle and the silence
the clack clack clack of a classroom
full of young women
learning to type
in the silence
And the day before
down by the bus station
a thousand or more birds
on the wires
all waiting to depart
just as I was
the memory still warm
waiting to depart
John Lyons