Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay

I remember the brash light
           streaming through
the branches of the lime trees
           the crisp air that felt
almost too good
           in the lungs
the soft sunshine that spread
           a silver sheen
across the endless River Plate

I remember the slow motion
           of the people who seemed
to be in no hurry
           veterans of history
content to treat time
           with contempt
In many ways
           it was like a film set
in which nothing happens
           or is always about to happen
or has just happened
           and we missed it

I remember the silhouettes
           of the lighthouse and the ruins
of the convent of San Francisco
           when darkness fell—
the chill stillness of the night
           broken by the sound
of distant laughter
           an echo from a different age

And I remember other things
           I’d rather forget

John Lyons