I sit alone, drinking Margaritas,
wrapped in a blanket to keep out the cold,
as dark clouds gather over San Miguel.
The bustling streets below are empty now;
turistas shelter from the coming storm
in heated restaurants and cozy bars.
A peal of thunder silences the bells
of La Parroquīa; the world stands still
as lightning arcs across the moonless sky.
Fat drops of water parachute to earth,
then harder, faster, bouncing off the ground,
a slick curtain of rain to hide my tears.
They’re for the time we had together here.
I’m sick and tired of crying on my own,
it pleases me to watch the city weep.
San Miguel de Allende
15 June 2016