Heat withdraws from the noisy barrio
as rollers come down,
revealing their art,
hiding their business.
Shadows stretch and blend
as ambient light cross-fades
with posted lanterns' city-style hardness;
An assault on the eyes,
an insult to the charm of this Spanish town.

But dusk brings a different vibe,
as strip-lit stores backlight silhouettes
of teenage melodrama,
releasing me from romantic illusion,
to begin an evening routine of my own.

Tucked away on a forgotten lot,
my gentle activities are homely and calm.
I perform them at an appropriate pace,
before stepping down onto the porch
to watch the night set in.

Without need or want for modern distraction,
I find observation fulfilling
until my eyes begin to droop
and my warm bed invites me home.

Six by four by seven,
and it's all over for another two years.

How I long to return.