#SIP - Poem by Maria Duarte

In the Luminous Moment


The foil sheets fold into pieces

like my heart folds into squares

arteries not needed stop pumping blood,

arteries needed see no difference

in the rhythm of my heart.

The jay sings outside my window,

it is 6am and there is a glimpse of light

life becoming visible after mother darkness

leaves us alone with shadows.

Life – that is the word of the day,

blood flowing through my veins,

while wine fills my stomach while

tears soak a shirt – life

the inevitable stage in which we stop

a moment to breathe and remember

that we are not blind to the sun

but we are blind to us, to the us

that makes us human. Your skin

becomes the sheets that cover me

from the Nagual and then it disappeared

in a stormy night when the apocalypse came.

Now, I have no sheet to cover my tears,

wine remains the constant in this life

wine the favorite drink of the gods.

Olympus has fallen for shortage of wine –

the news read.

The news doesn’t see that the tulips have been

eradicated by our obsession with Instagram.

Instagram is the lens in which they see

a life – a life that is not what it is

and I remain with wine glass in hand

remembering the love I once felt from

the trees in my grandfather’s ranch.

The love that will never come back

until water stops running underneath

my feet in this red-blooded earth.


Maria Duarte is a poet and writer who received her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of California, Riverside--Palm Desert. She has published poems in Verdad Magazine from Long Beach City College and in the anthology The Good Grief Journal: A Journey Toward Healing. She is currently the poetry editor for Kelp Journal.





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