Back To Tepoztlan

Back to perfect weather, beautiful

flowers and my freshly painted and

cleaned casita….back to temporary

paradise…back to a monkish existence…

back to conspiracies and poetry and

afternoons of staring out the window…

back to my routine (every German 

needs one): coffee on the steps of Cafe

Tepozt…meeting the few old ex-pats

at another cafe…today a young, handsome

Canadian journalist en route to Argentina

played his guitar and teased us old people

lovingly.