Eduardo Rodriguez, Presente
by Jan Pilarski

    A sea of white, crosses
    outstretched and held aloft,
    and the prowess of your name,
    thousands of names, as a
    hedge against future atrocities.
    We pass over from life to
    death, calling your spirit to
    be with us - our long slow
    march snaking onto the soil
    where insurgents learned their
    trade and we slept through
    it all. To rouse ourselves to
    memory we sprinkle an
    oblation and tell ourselves
    no mas, no mas, a mantra
    repeated without
    ceasing; the finger of
    remembrance tracing
    your voice upon our souls.

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