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