Volta do mar Moon

turn of the sea, turns of the mind

the woman, a best friend, mother

poet, benefactor, de facto auntie

chose to die while spring was alive

we keep afloat with food & water

never forget

& company of flowers

never forget

the weight of our freedom

never forget

the phone & computer, yearning ports

overbustling with industrial nodes

obscure the rarity of human portage

across the depths, over the deep

among the old sailing crew navigators

rarely sleep, looking forward for home

by looking back & recalling each move

of wind, direction of bird, wheel of stars

know them by their red eyes

they liberate the circle of water

all the way down to aching blues

black moon, green breath, rising sun

she lived well & chose to voyage on

by stopping—no delicious or moist

for her final poem, while mesquite

grew beans & the desert warmed

dakinis ride wind to trouble the path

sitting still the shore moves

a circle within a circle

one life, never forget