Guanajuato

An empty plaza except for two stray dogs sniffing promiscuously, romping

across slick cobblestones, rain like fresh pillows drifting down from a featherbed

of gray sky and van morrison’s ‘brown-eyed girl’ lush, swirling towards us

from inside the yellow church with peeling paint, a homeless man asleep

on concrete steps and Don Quixote astride his gallant steed out front.