Mexican Morning Glories
The early morning stills, and I on my side, yawn—
a breather from the fever of her fire flowers unfolding,
the night hours abloom.
Fighting for ascension,
emissions of titanium and sodium
revealing colors of delightful sprays.
Her arrays lay in wait for my attention,
a startling intention nearly every day,
from Cuaresma Chiquita to El Señor de la Conquista,
echoing above the streets of San Miguel de Allende.
Author’s note: This free verse poem recounts the beauty of celebration in the streets of SMA.
“It’s a fine line between Saturday night and Sunday morning.”
This poem is published through Wild Words, a weekly newsletter that delivers one new poem, once a week – nothing more, nothing less. I often write on themes of nature, beauty, and culture, and regionally locate my writings in Texas and throughout Latin America. The stylistic hallmarks of my poetry are rooted in adventure, nostalgia, wanderlust, discovery, and everyday life. You can subscribe below.
