A close friend inspired this poem. It’s been in my head since January, bits and pieces come and go. But it’s only now I’ve been able to pin all the words down.

—– x —– x —– x —–

BLOOD MOON by Karen A.B. Hernandez

The blood moon runneth over

between the vastness of her thighs.

The tragedy of souls escaping

Back to their origins smelled like

Dark wet soil that never sees the sun.

Wailing wolves sing loud & low of their sorrow.

The yowls haunt and echo in the dark,

As if another dawn will never come.

Contemplating existence so cursedly,

The seeds can’t tell yet, of anything.

Will we ever? Has anything ever even begun?

A bitter root started growing

into a complex system of weeds and vines.

Through this, We shall overcome.

In the promise of sunlight in moonlight,

In the water that flows underground,

lies subterranean destiny as wide as the river runs.