For Trinidad Garcia

Nothing is created, nothing destroyed

Before the match was struck fire was here
row on row of votives burning
before Our Lady Guadalupe
the moon and stars at her feet, angels attending–

An image in oils only, but tonight, as you lie dying
She floats over holy fire and water
hovering above the cold pews, tilting her head
tenderly downward, smiling.

Nothing is lost, nothing gained

You made no burden of grief, no murmur of humility
the morphine prevented you from feeling death
that, you said, was one regret, then smiled
as you smiled a thousand times before, except I saw in it

What there is to get to
the stillness of pain in perfect surrender
the smile on your lips a gift of parting joy–

When a candle goes out
Fire remains, your mind gliding like a bird
In and out of consciousness, row on row of stars
flickering out, out, and on again…

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Mi amigo, Trinidad
murió tan joven,
el 7 de julio de 1994.

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