by Rose Mary Boehm

This moon is rough around
the edges.
It’s a humble tumble fumble moon.

Santa Muerte.
Dance of those who know.
Who’ve been.

Beat the rhythm with the bones. Bring
back the cattle.
Day of slaughter.

Santa Muerte, the night walker stalker

Sindhe doors.
Light the good fires.
Set a table for dead kin.
Prepare the barn.

Black clouds obscure the gallows
holy be your offering.

Smoke soak my skin,
ablute, restitute, retribute.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I am a German-born UK citizen, both making me exceedingly prone to indulge in the mythological. I believe firmly that our subconscious is aware of things that go “bump in the night,” of what we now call legends, mythology, faery tales. I think the roots of these tales form the basis for our present-day reality, and if we want to stay humane, we ignore it at our peril.

IMAGE: “Crows and moon” by Ohara Koson (1927).


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (Tangents), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in US poetry reviews. Toe Good Poetry, Burning Word, Muddy River Review, Pale Horse Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Other Rooms, Requiem Magazine, Full of Crow, Poetry Quarterly, Punchnel’s, Avatar, Verse Wisconsin, Naugatuck River Review, Boston Literary, Red River Review, Main Street Rag, Misfit Magazine, and some print anthologies, as well as Diane Lockward’s The Crafty Poet. She has been a finalist in several GR contests, and won third price in in the 2009 Margaret Reid Poetry Contest for Traditional Verse (US), winner of the October 2014 Goodreads monthly poetry contest. To find out more, visit her blog.