BORDERS(1986). Though hard, the moon seems such a benevolent body of light.
It only happened once
spinning in the desert white
with moonlight, glancing down,
rabbits, snakes, small burrowing owls
in a circle round her bare feet,
stretching too toward the moon,
snakes charmed by silent music.
Closing her eyes, feeling the pull
as they spun round
her knee, breasts, touching
her long hair, circling higher
in a funnel through which she rose
pushing upward, upward, grazing stars
with her fingertips and toes
her body light
finally curling on the moon
which circled round her
while she slept, slipped her
softly on the desert floor at dawn.
by Pat Mora ©