Every mornin’ I would see her waiting at the stop
Sometimes she’d shopped and she would show me what she bought
All the people stared as if we were both quite insane
Someday my name and hers are going to be the same
It’s been cold. Winter-duty scarves. Scarves pulled up to noses. Gloves. A day full of rain. Everyone’s talking about the weather. The landlord let me know this week that Sam, who had made arrangements long ago to rent the casita for a year, was no longer interested in coming to San Miguel again. That means I have a home here for as long as I wish; this news arrived, of course, once I had begun plotting a year in Europe.