Colonia at Dusk

You can count the sounds you hear:

a bike coming to a stop—

the noise bleeding off into stillness;

footsteps—

sandals on cobblestones;

crickets high within the trees;

a dog barking at a cat.

Geraniums grow by the wall

upon which I write this note—

an old stone wall

in the town of Colonia

by the Río de la Plata.