Llorona-Lloronas by Emma Moya Midnight dances, on village streets Swiftly moves toward cemetery seats Listens to a lady's wail Salty tears, pour down trail Leads somewhere to a nowhere place The lady moves in graceful pace Searching for the part of her - she must embrace Village winds tire of her Wisk her away, across the sea She, there, is met by other wails Connecting hers to ancestral trails Her moaning stops, suddenly, where Strange Lloronas - glare and stare None can speak - their mouths are sealed By virtue of a great decree Assigning them to roam the earth The natal place that gave them birth Offspring - of a fallen race Condemned to wail in time and space Specters chased by a strange human race (nosotros-us) Emma Moya, Poet & Writer Copyright 2001