- - - for Esperanza
Winter's dark, dead of the night
on the cold Solstice.
Not yet dark, the full moon and I walk the dog
as it, the moon, disappears in slices of my shadow, the earth's shadow, our shadow---
mine and the dog's and yours, my friend,
six days dead and three buried.
The moon over your grave disappears
and will reappear
like your love.
like light on this now-dark night.
- - Rebbecca Del Rio