Day 15

The moon like a pinhole in paper
bled down through the fog;
it was past bedtime in the
compound
and the stars asked for our songs

We were but one mass
of 4 bodies keeping warm
on the concrete back yard.

I held them like goslings under my arms
and my blanket.

Their pockets filled with notes
on lined paper
No me olvides
No me olvides
No me olvides
No me olvides Tia Britta

The taste of six hungry chocolate
eyes and songs
book marked

page 147; they will all grow up
they will a leave
only this moment is certain

Nunca te voy a olvidar.